


See the Light

by missbecky



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Angst, F/M, Restored Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 14:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through the events of KOTOR 2, Bao-Dur begins to see Visas in a new light. Meanwhile, the Exile is torn between the two men who love her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to ff.net in 2005 using their chapter system. Updated in 2012 to include the restored content as it has been returned to the game.
> 
> Throughout this story, I have often used in-game dialogue. Some of it has been changed slightly, though, to make it sound more realistic. The final chapters of this story include the restored content; however, again I made some changes, mostly involving Atton's storyline.
> 
> When I first posted this on ff.net, I resisted as long as I could before naming the Exile. This time around, I just gave her a name right from the start. It seemed easier that way.

Chapter 1  
Observations

 

“No, no, no. You’ve got nineteen there. And I’ve already used three of my cards. You should stand.”

“But I’ve got two minus cards left. Why shouldn’t I keep playing?”

“Because you’ll _lose_ , that’s why.”

“If you say so. This is a stupid game.”

Bao-Dur smiled to himself. The conversation between Atton and Alia was easily overheard, and he could not deny he was amused by it. He never would have guessed that the General was the type of woman to throw away her time over a simple card game, but here she was, proving him wrong.

They had been at it for nearly an hour. At first Atton had patiently taught her the rules of pazaak, but by now his growing frustration was obvious. Alia was brilliant when it came to military strategy and tactics, but apparently she had a hard time counting to twenty.

A figure walked past, and Bao-Dur glanced up. He was in the security room, checking to make sure all the cameras were functioning. Alia had seen him in here an hour ago when she had entered the cockpit, but she had said nothing to him. One of the benefits of being a tech, Bao-Dur had long ago learned, was that most people treated him like a droid. Invisible most times, and nothing more than furniture when he _was_ noticed.

“Excuse me, but I wonder if I could have a word. There is something I wished to show you.” Mical spoke hesitantly.

“We’re busy,” Atton said. “Maybe some other time.”

“No, it’s all right.” Alia did not sound annoyed at having her pazaak lesson interrupted. “What did you want to show me?”

Mical hesitated, and Bao-Dur found himself leaning forward slightly, not wanting to miss what the soldier said next. “It is in the medical bay. Would you mind coming with me?”

“Not at all.” Alia’s cheerful response did not quite cover the rude noise Atton made.

Footsteps sounded in the hall. Bao-Dur busied himself with the security terminal, but neither Alia nor Mical so much as peeked at him as they walked past.

The door to the cockpit slammed closed as Atton gave in to his temper. Bao-Dur started in fright, then shook his head ruefully. Ten years after the war had ended, and he still wanted to take cover when he heard a sudden noise.

All the security cameras were working, and now that the pazaak lesson had ended, it was rather boring up here. Bao-Dur left the small room and made his way through the ship, back toward the garage.

The _Ebon Hawk_ was quiet now, but yesterday that had not been the case. Alia had been looking for one of the lost Jedi on Nar Shaddaa, taking Bao-Dur and Atton with her. The three of them had been walking through the Refugee Sector when suddenly Alia had stopped still and announced that they needed to return to the ship.

Bao-Dur had not questioned this decision. He trusted the General to know the right course of action.

And once again, she had not let him down. Slavers had attacked the ship, trying to take it for their own. A terrific battle had ensued. Bao-Dur had never doubted that they would reclaim the ship, but even so, for a few minutes the outcome had been in doubt.

No one had escaped the fight unscathed. Alia had commanded them to stay on board the ship for the night. They needed to rest, she had said. And there were some things she wanted to talk about. She had looked at Atton as she said that, and Bao-Dur had remembered the two Twi’leks who approached them in the Refugee Sector – and he had wondered.

The fight had been yesterday. By now all traces of the battle had been erased, and Bao-Dur’s wounds were gone. The Force was truly a wondrous thing. From time to time he thought that maybe one day he would like to learn its mysteries, then he would quickly put such thoughts from his head.

His remote booped at him as he entered the garage. He gave it a smile and made his way to the workbench he had set up in the corner. He picked up a hydrospanner, and then set it down again. “Did you need something?”

She glided from the shadows, her eyes veiled as always. “Why do you stay in here? You spend so much of yourself on these repairs, on these _objects._ ” Her voice dropped. “You stare at your tools all day, and you do not even see the world around you. You are more blind than I am.”

Bao-Dur looked at the Miraluka seer. He was uncomfortable around her, no matter what Alia said about her. “Perhaps if you were less blind, you would see that you are wrong about me,” he said.

“Perhaps,” Visas said. Her head turned, giving the impression that she was actually seeing the contents of the garage. “But perhaps I see very well.”

“Was there something you needed?” he asked. He had not known her to enter the garage before. 

“So many questions,” Visas murmured. One hand lifted, her fingers trailing through the air. “The Exile asks them of me as well. She is genuinely concerned for my well-being.”

“Does that bother you?” Bao-Dur asked.

“I am not bothered,” Visas said. She hesitated. “But I do not know what to think of it. It has been a long time since anyone cared enough to ask me what I wanted.”

She must have lived a very bleak existence, Bao-Dur thought. He remembered looking at her as she lay unconscious in the medical bay after attacking Alia, and seeing the scars that covered her body. They had all stared down at her, shocked into humble silence; Atton had been uncharacteristically quiet, and even Kreia had been less inclined to lecture that day.

“I do not know what Master you served before this,” Bao-Dur said, “but Alia is a good person. She will look after you, as long as you are with her.” He frowned, then added, “You can trust her.” He was not sure a Sith would even care about something as fragile as trust, but the Miraluka was not quite like any Sith he had ever heard of before.

And he suspected she was experiencing a conflict, deep within her. After she had recovered from her injuries, she and Alia had sat for hours in conversation. Kreia had scowled with disapproval, and for once Bao-Dur had agreed with her. He had not liked the idea of his General spending so much time with someone who had just tried to kill her.

But something had happened during those hours. Visas Marr was troubled now, and unsure of herself. For some time, Bao-Dur had watched her drift throughout the ship, her step uncertain. She no longer seemed to know the path before her.

Bao-Dur thought about his own doubts, the way he sometimes yearned to be a Jedi. He wanted to feel the Force and know its soothing power. It was the only thing that could save him from the horrors of the war, and yet it felt very far away.

Visas turned to face him. “I do trust her,” she said quietly. “I would give my life for her.”

“Then you already know why I spend so much of myself for her,” Bao-Dur said.

Visas contemplated this for a long moment, then nodded. “I do know,” she said.

******

Chapter 2  
Compassion

 

The low hum of the lightsaber sounded ominous. “Stance low. Stay focused. Try to anticipate my moves.”

“You want me to read your thoughts?”

“No, I want you to read _me._ Reach out with the Force. It will warn you when I am ready to attack.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I’m kind of attached to my limbs, you know.”

Alia laughed, not in mockery, but with genuine good humor.

Sound carried well on the _Ebon Hawk._ From his workbench in the garage, Bao-Dur could hear the lightsaber lesson without even trying. They were in the cargo hold, the only space big enough on the ship to accommodate a mock battle.

“The old woman is right.”

He turned around in surprise. She had come up behind him so silently he had not heard her approach. “He is a fool, dancing for her favor,” she said.

“Do you think so?” he asked. It was only yesterday that he and Visas had first spoken together, and yet already that conversation seemed like something that had happened a long time ago. They stood here now as if they always spoke with such familiarity, with such ease.

Visas nodded. “They are both fools.”

Bao-Dur considered this. Earlier in the morning Alia had taught Mical this very same lesson. And Visas was right. In Alia’s presence, Mical lost his aloof mannerisms and became little more than a boy anxious to please.

“I am not sure I would call them fools,” he said carefully, not wanting to insult anyone. “Atton and Mical are both Jedi now.”

In truth, he was jealous of them, although he would never have admitted it out loud. They knew something now he did not. They knew the Force, and all its power. All its peace.

“Knowledge of the Force does not necessarily impart wisdom,” Visas said. Her voice softened. “Yet it should. They should know their actions are useless.”

Bao-Dur looked speculatively toward the wall separating the garage from the cargo hold. He had never really thought about it before. Even when Atton had come straight out and asked him, he had found a way to avoid talking about it. Alia’s personal life was none of his business. But now that the seer had made him think about it, he supposed she was right yet again.

“They may offer their affections, but she cannot accept,” Visas said. “And their actions reveal themselves to be fools, that they do not see this truth about her.”

“You mean because of the Jedi Code,” Bao-Dur said. He remembered the stories that had circulated among the barracks, how the other techs had whispered about the cold Jedi, how they were never allowed to fall in love or even lay with another in bed. It felt almost like blasphemy to think of Alia in such terms, but she was a thinking, feeling sentient, after all. Why should she not want to be with others of her kind?

“That is not the reason why,” Visas said, dismissing the Jedi Code with six simple words. “She cannot accept their affections because in the acceptance, she must make a choice.” She turned toward him. “And she will not choose between them. She will not hurt them that way.”

Bao-Dur did not know what to say to this. He knew of course how Atton and Mical felt, but he knew nothing of what Alia thought about either of them. Even had he known her innermost thoughts, it was not his place to share them with anyone.

“Compassion is her greatest strength,” Visas said. “But it is also her greatest weakness.”

“I do not consider compassion, or love, to be a weakness,” Bao-Dur said. “Nor would the General, if you were to ask her.”

“I do not need to ask her,” said Visas. “I see the truth in her actions. She spared my life. That is all I need to know.”

She walked away slowly. In the entryway, she stopped. With her back still to Bao-Dur she said, “Tomorrow she will venture forth onto Nar Shaddaa once more. She must deal with the bounty hunters who chase her, and the Exchange that wants to kill her. Yet she will show them mercy if she can. However, I believe that she will not be given that chance. She will need strength, and a quick blade. If she will have me, I will go with her. But first I need to center myself. I must meditate.”

He wondered why she was telling him this. “So you can purge any compassion from yourself?”

“No,” Visas said quietly. “So I might understand it.” She walked from the garage.

Bao-Dur remained where he was for a long moment. Then he looked up at his remote, which had silently hovered nearby during all this. “Not a word from you,” he warned.

The remote flashed its lights at him, but made no sound.

He walked quickly through the halls of the ship, moving fast so he would not change his mind. He found her in her quarters, kneeling down, her head bowed. She looked up when he entered her room.

“If you want to understand Alia, and her compassion,” he said, “I think I can help you.”

Visas said nothing. The silence stretched out until Bao-Dur began to think she was never going to reply.

At last she said, “I would like that.”

Bao-Dur smiled.

******

Chapter 3  
Someone’s Gotta Have Your Back

 

“Got a minute?”

Bao-Dur tensed. He remembered well what had happened the last time Atton had asked him that. He was in no mood to discuss the General’s love life again. “What do you need?”

“A favor.” Atton stood next to the workbench, his arms crossed defensively. Clearly he did not like having to ask someone for help.

“With what?” Bao-Dur asked. He tried not to stare at the pilot’s Jedi robes -- it was still a bit strange to see Atton wearing them.

“I need you to stand guard,” Atton said.

This got Bao-Dur’s full attention. He set down his tools. “Stand guard? What are you planning on doing that you need me to stand guard?”

“Talk to Kreia,” Atton said.

“Oh,” Bao-Dur said. He frowned. “Why do you need to talk to Kreia?”

“I just do,” Atton said. He fidgeted, fussing at his hair. “There’s some…unfinished business between her and I. And I’d like someone to be there in case…things go badly.”

“What exactly are you planning to do?” Bao-Dur asked. “I hope you’re not expecting me to jump in and save the day. If things ‘go badly’ as you put it, what can I do? Zap her with my Force pike?”

Atton rolled his eyes. “Just come on. All you need to do is stand in the hall. And be ready.”

Reluctantly, Bao-Dur followed him through the ship. They had left Nar Shaddaa almost an hour ago. Alia was alone in her quarters, supposedly resting. He suspected she was fretting about the fiasco on Goto’s yacht, however. She was not happy that she had allowed herself to be captured – and by a droid, of all things.

When they neared Kreia’s quarters, Atton paused. “Look,” he said, “you’re probably going to hear some things that won’t make any sense. Just, do me a favor--”

“Another one?” Bao-Dur interrupted, unable to keep himself from smiling as he said it.

“Yeah,” Atton said, apparently seeing no humor in this. “Just don’t ask, all right? She knows, and that’s all you need to know.”

“Sure,” Bao-Dur said. He had no idea what Atton was talking about, but he knew Alia trusted the pilot, and that was good enough for him.

Atton took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.” He rounded the curve in the hallway, and entered Kreia’s quarters.

At first he could not make out the words as they spoke to each other, and then Atton raised his voice. “Yeah, so no more of your threats, no more of your ‘requests.’ You and me, we’re done.”

Bao-Dur frowned. He hadn't known that Kreia was threatening Atton. He did not like to hear that. It made him wonder what kind of things the old woman had been saying to Alia. He was not sure he liked the way Alia listened to Kreia; for someone supposedly a teacher, Kreia was far too manipulative, and her heart was too dark. Sometimes he thought she was more a Sith than any real Jedi.

“Did you ever think I truly held you?” Kreia’s voice dripped contempt. “You are more of a fool than I thought. What truly held you was you. And let me show you why.”

Bao-Dur reached for his blaster. He was not at all sure he could stop her if she chose to strike at Atton, but he was willing to try. After all, Atton was one of his crewmates, one of his companions. He could not stand aside and let Kreia – or anyone – hurt someone he traveled with.

It was like being a soldier all over again. Like Serroco, and Malachor. You always protected the one who fought beside you. You always had their back.

Certainly he would do anything for Alia. She had earned his complete trust and respect. If she asked him to lay down his life for her, he would do without question.

Since Malachor he had been alone a lot, maybe too much. Traveling with companions again had been a major adjustment for him. When he had walked along that Telosian beach with Atton and Alia, he had wondered if he had made a serious mistake by casting his lot in with them. He was there to stop Czerka and help the restoration efforts, and that was all. Getting involved again had been the last thing he had ever wanted.

Yet despite himself, he had remained by Alia’s side. He genuinely liked Atton, and he had come to respect the pilot. Likewise, he had nothing but respect for Mical, who had proven himself to be a good soldier in the heat of battle, and a good man outside of it.

Kreia could take care of herself, and he had learned early on to stay out of her way. He did not know Mira very well; she had only been with them since their departure from Nar Shaddaa. And that left Visas. 

Strange to think that he would protect a Sith. But he could not lie to himself. If Visas’ life were threatened, he would do what he could to help her. She was one of them now. She was someone worth saving.

He became aware that Kreia was still talking, that her voice was steadily rising. “Or perhaps you will continue to listen to my counsel,” she said now. “And I shall ignore your pathetic attempts at freedom.”

This did not sound like it was going well. Cautiously, Bao-Dur drew his blaster. He eased forward, the better to hear what was going on in Kreia’s room.

“Now leave me, murderer. I have nothing further to say to one such as you.” If it were possible for words to kill, Kreia’s departing command would have slain even a ronto beast.

Quickly Bao-Dur moved back through the corridor. He did not stop until he reached the garage. If Kreia knew he had been standing outside her room, she would make his life miserable. And then _he_ would be the one forced to endure her veiled threats.

Atton was not far behind. His expression was murderous. “I suppose you heard all that?”

“Actually, no,” Bao-Dur said. He had promised he would not ask any questions -- _murderer_ \-- even if he was unsettled by what little he had heard. “I was mostly listening for the sounds of battle.”

Atton peered at him, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. After a long moment, the pilot relaxed a little. “That old schutta. One of these days, I’m gonna space her.” One hand tapped angrily on the hilt of his new lightsaber; Bao-Dur doubted he knew he was doing it.

“Be careful,” he said. “You don’t want anyone to hear that.”

“Who’s gonna hear?” Atton said. He leaned against the workbench, half-sitting on it. “Your General is meditating with Mical.” He managed to say this without sounding too bitter, which was a definite improvement from the past. “Our pet bounty hunter is still hiding in there with that broken assassin droid. And Visas never even leaves her room.”

 _That’s not true,_ Bao-Dur thought. But he kept his mouth closed. Oddly enough, he didn’t want anyone else to know that Visas left her room so she could talk to him. It was a secret they shared.

“But hey, thanks for your help.” Atton stood up. “Guess I better go make myself useful in the cockpit or something.”

“Anytime,” Bao-Dur said. He watched Atton walk out.

He waited a few minutes, then made his way to Visas’ room. She was sitting on the floor, not meditating, but apparently waiting for him. “Something has happened,” she said.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. He had missed something crucial in the conversation between Kreia and Atton. _Murderer,_ Kreia had called him.

“You must be careful around the old woman,” Visas said. “She will do you harm, if it means furthering her cause.”

Bao-Dur believed her. He would have believed her even if he had not just heard Kreia threatening Atton.

“I would not let her harm anyone,” he said. “Not if I could stop her.”

“You could not stop her,” Visas said. “I doubt any of us could, except perhaps the Exile.” She dropped her gaze, so he could barely see her face. “But I thank you for your words.”

“I mean them,” Bao-Dur said. From what little he knew about her, she had lived a hard life since the destruction of her planet. He wanted her to know that things would be all right now. It seemed important that she know.

“I know you do,” Visas said. “And I am thankful.”

Having told her, there was nothing left to say. He turned to go, when her voice stopped him.

“Stay. Please.”

He turned around. She was still sitting down, but her posture was tense. “Your presence is soothing,” she said. Beneath the veil covering her eyes, faint color stained her cheeks.

The _Ebon Hawk_ was always in need of repair, and he had promised G0-T0 that he would look at the droid’s systems. Bao-Dur thought of all the things demanding his time – and made a deliberate decision to put them aside. Right now he was going to do something he wanted to do, instead of something he had to do.

“I will stay,” he said, “if you want.”

“That is what I want,” Visas said.

Bao-Dur sat down across from her.

******

Chapter 4  
Jungle Trails and Mandalorians

 

They gathered in a group, discussing what to do next. Bao-Dur noted with interest the way Kreia stood alone, no one wanting to be too close to her. Atton and Mical flanked Alia. Mira stood with her arms crossed, one hip thrust out.

Visas was standing next to him. And try as he might, Bao-Dur could not ignore her presence. She made it hard for him to focus on what Kreia and Alia were saying.

“All right, all right.” Alia held up her hand. “Enough talk. Let’s find this outpost.” She looked tired, like she was not getting enough sleep, and some of her brown hair had fallen from its customary ponytail. But as always, she was not about to shirk her duty.

They had been shot down, yet again. The jungles of Dxun were dangerous and inhospitable. And they were not a place Bao-Dur had ever wanted to return to. Yet here they were. Now they had to find a way to get to Onderon, and that meant someone had to go out there in the jungle.

As always, Kreia removed herself from any action, saying that she preferred to remain on board the ship. She gave Atton a pointed look and made a cryptic comment about repairs needing to be done. With obvious reluctance, Atton agreed to stay on the _Ebon Hawk._ Bao-Dur watched this with some concern. Whatever hold Kreia had over Atton, he had apparently not managed to break free yet.

“Look, no offense, but don’t expect me to go out there,” Mira said. “I’m a city girl, you know? This jungle’s just not for me.”

“I will go with you,” Mical said instantly, not quite hiding his eagerness.

Alia frowned. She glanced about the circle of her companions. “Bao-Dur, Visas, would you come with me?”

Mical’s shoulders slumped. At the same time, on the other side of Alia, Atton stood a little straighter.

Bao-Dur nodded with pride. “Of course, General.” He knew she could take care of herself, but he was always glad to accompany her. It made the job of protecting her that much easier.

They quickly geared up, preparing themselves for a trek through the jungle. Bao-Dur wore his favorite Cinnagar war suit, and armed himself with a Mandalorian blaster and the Force pike he had owned since Telos. He noted with approval the double vibroblade Visas carried, although he was less pleased about her lack of armor.

Alia walked up. At first glance, she looked almost ludicrously vulnerable, wearing just a simple Jedi robe, but Bao-Dur had seen her in action. He knew she was more well-defended than anyone else on the ship. “Are we ready?” she asked.

Bao-Dur always felt like saluting when she asked him that. But he did not. He simply nodded. “Ready, General.”

****

They walked through the Dxun jungle. Alia took point. Whenever they encountered any beasts, she dealt with them quickly. One hand would raise in the air, calling down a storm of Force lightning. The silver forks of light would no sooner die away than she would leap into battle, her violet lightsabers swinging in an oddly beautiful harmony. Often the unlucky beast was dead before Bao-Dur and Visas could even get off more than a single blaster shot.

Once they came across an old weapons cache. Alia warned them to stay back as she investigated the site. She knelt down beside a body almost hidden in the grass. She stayed on her knees for some time, and when she stood up, she was frowning.

“Everything all right, General?” Bao-Dur asked.

She stared into the distance for a moment, then her expression cleared. She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s keep moving.”

They walked on. The jungle trails were nearly overgrown in many places, but that did not stop any of the beasts from charging at them. Alia was kept busy, her lightsabers always out and ignited. She ranged far ahead, and Bao-Dur found himself walking alone with Visas.

“Do you miss it?” he asked her. 

“What do you mean?” Visas asked.

“Your lightsaber,” Bao-Dur said.

“I did not think I would, but I do,” she said. Her full mouth tightened.

“I can help you build one,” he offered. “I helped Alia.”

Visas hesitated, obviously wanting to say yes, but not quite daring to do it. “I think that should be Alia's decision,” she said. “Only she can say if I am ready to be trusted with a lightsaber again.”

“She trusts you,” Bao-Dur said as they rounded a curve in the trail. The path was steep here, and he could feel the strain in his legs. “If she did not, you wouldn’t be allowed to walk behind her with a blaster in your hands.”

Visas thought about this, then suddenly smiled. Her whole face – what Bao-Dur could see of it – was transformed when she smiled. She actually looked pretty then. “You are right,” she said. “Again. I should learn to listen to you, Bao-Dur.”

He chuckled, encouraged by the sight of her smile. He could not remember seeing her smile before. It felt good to know he was able to wipe away some of the sadness that always surrounded her. “If only I could get Alia to believe that, too.”

“She does listen to you,” Visas said seriously. “More than you know, I think.”

Bao-Dur looked at his General. She was crouched over a skeletal body, searching it for anything useful. It was a wartime habit, one he approved of. You never knew when you would find something you needed. Scavenging dead bodies was distasteful, but necessary.

“I have found,” Visas said, “that you are an inspiration for everyone aboard the _Ebon Hawk,_ with the exception of the bounty hunter. But that is only because she does not know you very well yet.”

The unexpected compliment made Bao-Dur flush. “Not everyone,” he protested, thinking of Kreia.

“Yes,” Visas said. “Including myself.”

Bao-Dur was so surprised by this he did not know what to say. The mere thought of him having any influence over a Sith was laughable. But she was not smiling anymore. She meant what she said.

Up ahead, Alia straightened up and resumed walking. Bao-Dur followed her without really seeing his surroundings. He was still trying to think of something to say to Visas.

As it turned out, he was saved from having to answer. Alia suddenly stopped dead, her head cocking to one side. Her stance became alert and aware. As soon as he saw this, Bao-Dur readied his blaster, although he could not see any danger yet.

“There is a ship up ahead,” Alia said. “Three Duros await us.” She gave them a tight smile. “More bounty hunters, I suspect.”

“We are with you,” Visas said.

Together they walked forward. The Durosian ship lay in a smoldering heap, too wrecked to ever fly again. The three bounty hunters stood before it, sneering at their prize.

It was over with in seconds. Twice, Alia called upon the Force. Twice, lightning stormed from the sky. And three very dead Duros fell to the ground.

Bao-Dur had fired his blaster exactly once. “Well,” he said, “I sure am glad we came with you, General.”

She turned around. Her face was still alight with the glow of battle. “It’s always good to have you at my back, Bao-Dur.” She grinned.

He couldn’t help smiling back. He would do anything for her. “And I’m glad to be here.”

They checked the bodies and the ship’s wreckage for any salvage and then pressed on, deeper into the jungle. They climbed a small hill, Alia in the lead once again. At the top of the hill, they came to a puzzled stop. A fire was burning, and there were war banners and sensor tripods dug into the earth; but there was no sign of any life forms.

“Someone is here,” Visas whispered.

As though her words had triggered their arrival, five men suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They wore stealth generators, and hateful, familiar armor.

Bao-Dur caught his breath. “Mandalorians!”

****

He had not been around Mandalorians since the war. Walking with them to their camp was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do.

“What is wrong?” Visas asked him. “I sense you are unhappy.”

He glanced at her, startled that she could read him so well. “I don't think I should be here,” he said. “I have no love for Mandalorians.”

“Do you fear what you will do when you are among them?” the seer asked him.

Bao-Dur hesitated. He might long to unleash some of his old anger upon these soldiers, but he knew he would not. Not unless Alia commanded it. “No,” he admitted.

“Then you fear how they will make you feel,” Visas said.

Helplessly, he nodded. “Yes.”

“Do not let them anger you,” Visas said. “You must not give in to your emotions. Stay focused on our task. We are here to find passage to Onderon.”

It was somewhat galling to have a Sith lecture him about giving in to anger. Bao-Dur swallowed hard, but said nothing.

If Alia shared his misapprehensions about being in a Mandalorian war camp, she did not show it. She was polite and respectful when talking to their leader. She asked how she could help. She fought in the battle circle, and accepted the honor given her with appropriate solemnity. When she asked the warrior named Zuka if she could help with the telemetry, Bao-Dur felt duty bound to step forward and offer to look at the problems. As he did, Alia gave him a grateful smile, and Visas nodded in approval.

Strangely, the sight of Visas’ approval made him feel better than Alia’s smile.

They did not stay long in the camp. Alia was determined to prove herself to Mandalore, so they could gain passage to Onderon. She set a swift pace as they marched off into the jungle, only to draw up short as they were challenged by a group of soldiers. Bao-Dur tensed, ready for combat. But to his relief, Alia found a peaceful solution. She even got the recruit Davrel to take sides with her, and agree to fight the zakkeg together.

In silence they made their way toward the zakkeg’s lair. Bao-Dur was keenly aware of the fact that they would soon be fighting a very dangerous creature. He felt adrenaline begin to surge through his blood, getting him ready for the upcoming battle. The sounds of the jungle became magnified, and everything around him looked sharp and clear.

He looked at Visas. She too seemed to be preparing herself for battle. She gripped her blaster tightly. Her head was up, her lips slightly parted. Rosy color brightened her cheeks. He found himself wondering what her eyes looked like. If they were milky white like Kreia’s, or if they still retained their color.

Walking here beside her, it felt natural. It felt right. He realized with a start that he felt comfortable for the first time in ages. He was walking into a battle, and he was nervous, but he was with the two people he cared most about in the entire galaxy.

It was something of a revelation, he thought. To realize that he cared about Visas. It had happened so slowly, over time, that the truth had crept up on him. But now, here in the heat of the Dxun jungle, he could not deny it any longer.

It had been a long time since he had felt anything like this. Too long, in fact. Since before the war, even. After the war, he had been filled with too much anger, so he had deliberately kept himself isolated from others, preferring the company of droids to sentients.

And now there was Visas. It was true that she had tried to kill Alia, but that had been when she was still under the domination of her old master. She had been Sith, but it was clear that she no longer followed their teachings. She was confused now, unsure of herself and her future. She was kind, and patient – not even the corruption of her old master had been able to squash those traits within her. And she was loyal, the quality Bao-Dur prized most in his friends.

They rounded the final curve before the zakkeg’s lair and saw Davrel waiting for them. Alia went ahead to speak to the Mandalorian, leaving Bao-Dur and Visas standing there, waiting for the signal to move out.

In these last few moments of calm, he looked at her again. Visas sensed his scrutiny, and turned to face him. “What is it?” she asked.

He did not know what to say to her. Not now. It was still too soon. “Be careful,” he settled for saying.

She nodded. “You, too.”

Alia ignited her lightsabers. “Let’s go,” she said grimly. Behind her, the zakkeg trumpeted a call of challenge.

Bao-Dur hefted his blaster. “Ready,” he said.

******

Chapter 5  
The Ways of the Force

 

The zakkeg fell with a crash that resounded through the jungle. Bao-Dur stared at it with a wary eye, half-expecting it to leap to its feet and gore them if they got too close. After a long minute while the beast just lay there getting more and more dead, he finally accepted that it was over.

The battle had not been easy. Blasters had no effect on the zakkeg’s thick shell. They had been forced to come in close and attack with melee weapons. No one was uninjured; even Alia limped badly as she walked toward the fallen beast.

Visas stood with her vibroblade thrust into the ground. She leaned heavily on it, her head lowered, her entire body stiff with pain. Looking at her, Bao-Dur felt an overwhelming urge to stand beside her and protect her from future harm.

Alia cut the ear off the zakkeg’s carcass. “This should be proof enough of our deed,” she said. Apparently she was not ready to just accept Davrel’s word when it came to spreading the news of their victory through the Mandalorian camp. Bao-Dur thought she was right to feel such mistrust. He for one had no intention of putting any more trust in the Mandalorians than he had to. 

“Stand still,” Alia ordered. She held out her hand and called upon the Force.

Immediately a soothing balm settled over Bao-Dur. The pain of his wounds faded and became insignificant. The Force could not heal him completely, but it was a powerful aid, nonetheless. Within minutes he felt as though he could carry on.

Visas stood straighter, the tension easing from her body. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Alia nodded. Such strong use of the Force seemed to tire her, and her smile was somewhat weak. “We should be going,” she said. “Other beasts will be drawn here by the scent of blood.”

They headed through the jungle again. Once more, Alia took the lead. Bao-Dur strapped his Force pike to the pack on his back, and brought out his blaster once more. He held it with some relief. Ever since losing his arm at Malachor, he had not been comfortable with melee weapons. He much preferred a simple blaster.

But to see Visas with her blaster…that was strange. On the one hand, he was glad of it, wanting her to stay back from any fighting, so she would not get injured again. But somehow it was not right to see her this way. She knew the ways of the Force. She should be carrying a lightsaber.

“Why do you look at me so?” Visas asked. She matched him step for step as they walked through the jungle.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right,” he replied truthfully. Strange, how he wished he could walk ahead of her. Just one step. Just enough to bear the brunt of any attack they might face.

“My wounds are lessened,” Visas said. “I am ready for whatever lies ahead.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Bao-Dur said. She was always so quick to discount her own feelings. He hated to see that in her.

“I--” She hesitated. “I know. I am sorry. It is still new to me, that someone would care about me.”

There would never be a better time. Gathering up his courage, Bao-Dur said, “I care.”

Visas opened her mouth to speak, but did not say anything. She gripped her blaster fiercely and took a deep breath. “I did not like to see you injured,” she admitted.

The zakkeg’s clawed foot had caught him right in the chest. He remembered crying out with the knowledge that his ribs were broken, but there had been little pain. Too much adrenaline had filled him, giving him the strength to fight on.

And she had been there, already wounded, blood darkening her robes. He had not had a choice. He _had_ to keep on fighting.

“When the beast was dead,” Visas said, “I thought back on our actions. I realized how frightened I was. Not of dying, but of losing my companions.” Her voice dropped so low he could barely hear her. “Of losing you.”

All the moisture in Bao-Dur’s mouth dried up. He did not know what to say. He had seen too much death to offer her a placating promise that he would always be there. Nor would she believe him. She knew firsthand how cruel the galaxy could be, how quickly death could come.

“The Exile is my master,” Visas said, a little louder. “I will follow her wherever she leads. But you have become my friend, Bao-Dur. It has been a long time since I had a friend. I would not want to lose you.”

“I will do my best to always be here,” he said, wincing at the inadequacy of the words. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”

How wonderful, that in the middle of this dark jungle, he should suddenly feel bright hope. Perhaps he was not so wrong to care about her. Perhaps she was feeling the same way about him. When they got back to the ship, maybe it would be his turn to ask Atton for romantic advice. The thought made him chuckle out loud, prompting an inquisitive glance from Visas.

“Just an old joke,” he said, hoping she would not ask him to repeat it.

“I can feel your thoughts lighten,” Visas said. “I am glad.”

Bao-Dur smiled. “Me, too.”

****

The Mandalorian hailed them as they crested a rather steep hill. Immediately Bao-Dur tightened his grip on his blaster, but it was more a reflex than anything else.

“Are you Kumus?” Alia called.

The stranded Mandalorian was indeed Kumus. He explained his situation, and Bao-Dur saw Alia bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. He too saw the humor of the situation, but a small part of him was meanly glad that the soldier had gotten himself stuck. It might do the man some good to have to ask someone for help. Maybe if more Mandalorians were placed in similar situations, they wouldn’t be so quick to turn to war and battle for all their answers.

Then he sighed inwardly. That would never happen, and he knew it. There were few constants in the galaxy, but one of them was this: Mandalorians would never change.

There were a few beasts in a clearing just past the stranded Kumus, but they were not hard to get rid of. Alia’s violet lightsabers took down most of them, and Visas and Bao-Dur shot the last one. Together they went back to the bluff where the Mandalorian stood, and Alia told him it was all right to come down.

Kumus climbed down, somewhat sheepishly. He thanked them, and then begged them not to say anything to anyone back at the camp. Alia gave her word, and Kumus left, trying not to look like he was scuttling away.

Bao-Dur watched him go. When the soldier was out of sight, he said, “I have no love for Mandalorians, but letting him starve up there…I think you did the right thing.”

Alia nodded. She had regained her strength after the zakkeg attack, but nothing could take away the tiredness on her face. “He’s just a veteran, like us,” she said. “He deserves a better death than that.”

She was telling him to forget the war and move on, something he had been trying to do for ten years. And suddenly, it seemed like that was possible. Like he could leave behind all of his hatred. “I agree,” he said. “There was enough senseless death back then to last a lifetime.”

Saying the words out loud seemed to make something turn over inside him. He wanted to talk about it suddenly. He wanted to capture this feeling of peace, and never let it go. He didn’t want to walk into that Mandalorian camp and feel all the old hatreds rise up in him again.

Peace was possible. He could feel it out there, just out of reach. He just had to grab for it.

“Having you here has an effect on me, General,” he blurted. He had not known what he was going to say until the words left his mouth, but they felt right. “I never noticed it years ago. I think my mind was too occupied then.” 

She cocked her head slightly, and he was forcibly reminded of how Visas did the same thing when she was curious about something. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t want her to think he was just glad to be with someone who had shared the same horrors of war. He needed her to understand what he was feeling. She was the only one who could. “I feel…calm,” he said. “More in control. The anger is still there, but I can feel it drifting away.”

Beside him, Visas breathed in sharply. Beneath the veil it was impossible to tell what she was seeing, but her entire focus seemed to be on him. He felt suddenly certain that she was waiting to hear something specific, something that would validate her hopes.

“The last years of my life have been defined by it,” he continued. “The Mandalorians, Czerka, and Revan. And above all else, myself, for Malachor.” Never would he be free of the guilt of what he had done there.

Alia gazed at him calmly. “What about me, for giving the order?”

“Never, General. It had to be done,” he assured her. In all the years, he had never blamed her. She was a Jedi. She had been in command. She had known things none of them had known, and that dread knowledge had informed her decisions. She had been forced into making a choice, no matter the consequences.

But he had been given a choice. He could have said no, when they asked him. Yet he had not. “My hands destroyed the Mandalorians,” he said. “I cannot be forgiven for that.”

Alia’s eyes softened. “Had you not, millions of innocents in the Republic would have been killed. You saved them.”

He wondered how many times she had told herself these very words, using them to comfort herself in the dark of night when she lay awake wondering if she had done the right thing.

“Even if I did it out of hatred of the Mandalorians?”

“You did it to save us,” she insisted. “To protect us from death.”

He glanced again at Visas, wondering if she would hate him now that she knew he had destroyed a planet. Her own homeworld had been destroyed. What if she could not accept the fact that he was no better than the one who had turned Katarr into ashes?

“That might be the truth,” he said, “but I don’t want to see it that way.” It was easier to accept his guilt, than to fight it. “I can’t just ignore the blood on my hands.”

Alia walked toward him. “Oh, Bao-Dur. You have dwelled in the past for too long. You cannot undo history, but you can change the future.”

“I still feel like I need to do something to make up for it,” he said. For so long he had tried to find the proper atonement. Working on the Telos restoration project had come close, but his anger at Czerka’s interference had gotten in the way. Since traveling with Alia, though, he had begun to feel like he could truly find a way to repent for his actions at Malachor.

Redemption was truly possible now.

Alia looked him in the eye. She smiled. “Perhaps there is something.”

His heart leaped in his chest. “General?”

“Learn the ways of the Force,” she said.

With these words, Visas let out her breath in a rush. A small smile touched her lips. Bao-Dur noted this, but he did not have time to wonder what it all meant.

Alia had not taken her eyes off him. “But you must let go of your anger, or else it will destroy you, and you will fall.”

“Under your guidance, I feel like I could overcome my anger,” Bao-Dur said. Peace was so close now, beckoning him forward.

“Then we have no time to waste,” Alia said. She smiled, and that smile banished the tiredness from her face. She looked almost young again, like the headstrong Jedi Knight he had first seen from afar aboard a Republic warship.

“The ways of the Force,” he murmured. “You’re saying I could become a Jedi?”

Her smile widened. “Yes, Bao-Dur.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then at Visas. “A Jedi,” he breathed.

“Close your eyes,” Alia ordered.

Bao-Dur closed his eyes. He listened to her words. He felt something stir within him, something rising to the surface that had been locked away for far too long.

And when he opened his eyes, he knew the Force.

******

Chapter 6  
There’s a First Time for Everything

 

The leader of the Mandalorians was gruff, arrogant, and impossible not to like. Despite himself, Bao-Dur found he was nodding in agreement as the soldier outlined the plan to reach Iziz.

Throughout the camp, dead Sith littered the ground. A few Mandalorians had been killed, and many others were wounded. Alia and Visas had spoken with the survivors, using the Force to heal the injured; Bao-Dur had watched them calmly, knowing one day he would walk beside them.

Now the dead were being gathered, and Mandalore had ordered a shuttle to be ready in an hour. It was time to prepare for the journey to Onderon.

“I think I’ll go with you,” Mandalore announced, and Bao-Dur’s eyes widened.

Alia blinked in surprise, but she recovered quickly. “We’d be happy to have you,” she said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to my ship and my crew.”

She walked outside, her gait casual, her expression revealing nothing. Yet Bao-Dur knew she was not entirely pleased with this sudden change in plans. She stopped on the grass and glanced around, making sure none of the Mandalorians were close enough to overhear their conversation.

“I want you two to return to the ship,” Alia said. “You have done enough today. I cannot ask you to come to Iziz.”

“You shouldn’t go alone with the Mandalorian,” Bao-Dur cautioned. He had no doubt that she could take care of herself, but he did not like the idea of her being alone with Mandalore. She needed someone beside her.

“I won’t be going alone,” Alia said. “Return to the ship. Check on the status of the repairs.” She glanced away, and color heated her cheeks. “And please ask Mical to join me here. He will come to Iziz with Mandalore and myself.”

“We will do as you ask,” Visas said.

“Thank you,” Alia said. She looked up at them, all traces of embarrassment gone. “The Mandalorian guide will take you back to the ship. I will stay here, and assist with the final preparations for the trip to Onderon.”

“We will see you on board then,” Bao-Dur said, “after you return.”

Alia smiled. “May the Force be with you.”

****

They did not speak on the journey back to the ship. The presence of their Mandalorian guide held them silent, and they were watchful for signs of any more animal attacks.

For Bao-Dur, the walk through the jungle was a marvel. With his senses newly awakened to the Force, he was astonished to realize just how alive the galaxy was. The Dxun jungle teemed with life, from the smallest insects to the enormous trees that had stood here for centuries. He wanted to close his eyes and simply stand there, feeling alive, feeling the Force flow through him.

All too soon they reached the _Ebon Hawk._ The Mandalorian guide waited patiently while Bao-Dur and Visas went up the ramp and entered the ship.

“I must meditate,” Visas said. She kept her head bowed as she moved quickly toward her quarters.

Bao-Dur found Mical in the medical bay. The soldier had a datapad on his lap, but he was not reading; a frown marred his brow as he stared into space. He jumped with fright when Bao-Dur appeared in the doorway.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Mical said. He set the datapad down. “Is everything all right?”

“We have found a group of Mandalorians,” Bao-Dur said. “They have a shuttle that will take us to Onderon. Alia is waiting in their camp. She wants you to go with her.”

Mical’s whole face lit up. “I will be there right away!” He leaped to his feet. “Um, where should I go?”

“There is a guide outside, waiting to take you back,” Bao-Dur explained. 

Mical nodded. He grinned. “Thank you.”

Bao-Dur nodded back. He walked through the ship, greeting T3 with a smile as the little droid rolled past. 

“Back already?” Mira called. She was lounging on the couch, cleaning the rocket launcher she always kept strapped to her wrist.

As quickly as he could, Bao-Dur repeated his tale of the events on Dxun. Mira looked startled to hear they were joining forces with Mandalorians, then shrugged it off. “Hey, whatever gets the job done, you know? Could be a wise move.”

He glanced around and lowered his voice. “Do you know where Kreia is?”

“In her room, I guess,” Mira said. “I haven’t seen her in hours.” She spoke softly, too. “What’s up with her? She acts like she hates it here with us, but she never leaves the ship.”

Bao-Dur had wondered this as well. “I think she would prefer it if no one else was on board,” he said. “If it was just her and Alia.”

It would explain a lot, he thought. From what he knew, Kreia had been the first one of them to make contact with Alia, back on Peragus. The old woman had probably hoped she could take Alia under her wing and train her as an apprentice with no outside interference from others, and no one to undermine her influence. Unfortunately for her, her plan had been disrupted right from the start. It was little wonder she hated Atton so much, Bao-Dur mused. The pilot had been the first to join with them, and Kreia would never forgive him for that, for destroying her chance to be alone with Alia.

“How are the repairs coming?” he asked, speaking in a normal volume again.

“Dunno.” Mira made a vague gesture. “Okay, I guess.”

“Thanks.” Bao-Dur exited the ship again, out into the steamy jungle. Once more, his senses were immediately filled with the life surrounding him. He remembered Alia saying once that Nar Shaddaa was a terrible place to be a Jedi, because it was teeming with life, and he wondered what she thought of Dxun. Surely she would agree that natural life was better than the cluttered thoughts of sentients. After all, trees had to be more peaceful than spaceports.

Violent banging startled him out of his reverie. The noise was followed by a string of swear words, not all of them in Basic. Trying not to laugh, Bao-Dur walked around the _Ebon Hawk_ and found Atton perched on the side of the ship, struggling with a particularly stubborn aspect of their shields.

“Everything going all right?”

Atton yelped in surprise. He reached for his blaster and had it drawn before he registered that it was only Bao-Dur. “You’re back,” he said.

“Yep,” Bao-Dur said. He could tell at a glance that the repair work was going well, but he could see a few places where things could have been done better.

“Hey,” Atton said, finally realizing what Bao-Dur’s presence meant. “You’re back.” He hopped down to the ground, wiping his hands on his robes.

“Alia stayed behind,” Bao-Dur said quickly, dashing the pilot’s hopes.

Atton’s face fell. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. Well, why did she do that?”

For the third time, Bao-Dur went through his story. He had just reached the part about the zakkeg when Atton suddenly interrupted. “Hey, wait a minute. Something’s different. You’re different.” He stared at Bao-Dur closely. “You’re a Jedi now. She made you a Jedi!”

Bao-Dur nodded. He was absurdly pleased that Atton had noticed.

“How do you feel?” Atton asked.

“It’s not at all what I expected,” Bao-Dur said. He smiled. “It’s so much better.”

Atton grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

He went quickly through the rest of the story, especially upon reaching the end. “Mandalore will accompany her to Iziz. She asked Visas and myself to return to the ship. She wants Mical to go with her. She will contact us once she reaches the city.”

“Well,” Atton said. His good humor had vanished. “Good for him.” He turned back to the ship. “Now if you don’t mind…”

“I can help,” Bao-Dur offered. “It’ll get done faster if two work on it.”

“Sure, fine.” Atton climbed back up to the shield array, apparently intent on attacking the damaged areas of the ship since he could not take out his frustrations on anyone else.

“All right.” Bao-Dur took a hydrospanner out of the toolbox, and settled into the quiet business of repair work.

****

For a while they worked together in companionable silence, just two guys working on a machine. But Bao-Dur found his thoughts drifting more and more to the interior of the ship. More specifically, to one person within the ship.

He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to see her. He needed to know what she thought of him, now that she knew he had destroyed Malachor V.

He needed to know if she hated him now.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Only if it’s about this damn shield,” Atton grunted.

Bao-Dur set down his tools. “What if you did something once…something terrible…and someone you cared about found out about it. What would you say to them?”

Atton looked up, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. After a long moment he said, “Wait, this is about you.”

“Yes,” Bao-Dur said softly. He hoped he would not have to make another confession, but he would, if he had to. Part of redemption was acknowledging that you had done wrong, and admitting that you had to atone for that wrong.

“Oh, well, all right.” Atton frowned. “I assume we’re talking about Alia, right?”

Wishing now he hadn’t brought it up, Bao-Dur shook his head. He stared down at the hull of the _Ebon Hawk,_ noticing the marks of hard space travel. The ship was in need of a major overhaul, he thought absently. He should really mention it to Alia, the next chance he got.

“Then who are you talking about?” Atton asked.

Bao-Dur took a deep breath. “Visas.”

He could feel Atton’s shock with his new Jedi senses, and he tensed, waiting for the inevitable reprisal. Atton would tell him he was a fool to fall for a Sith, that Visas couldn’t be trusted, that she had tried to kill Alia, that he would be better off staying locked away in the garage for the rest of their journey, that he was an idiot, that he should have been left behind on Telos, that this would never, ever work out.

Atton said none of those things. He just said, “Good for you.”

Certain that he couldn’t have heard right, Bao-Dur looked up. Atton was smiling. “Hey, someone on this ship has to be happy. I’m glad it’s you.”

“So you think--?” He could not finish the sentence.

“Hold on.” Atton waved the plasma torch he was holding. “Just so we get this straight. _You’re_ asking _me_ for romantic advice?”

Bao-Dur flushed. “I suppose I am.”

Atton laughed, but it was not a mean-spirited sound. “I like that. Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything, right? Serves me right for asking you about _her._ ”

“So what do you think I should do?” Bao-Dur insisted.

“Talk to her,” Atton said without hesitation. “If she has feelings for you, she’ll forgive you. If she doesn’t, well, then does it really matter what she thinks?”

Bao-Dur sighed. It was the answer he had expected. He had known it all along, he supposed. He had just needed to hear it from someone else. “You’re right,” he said. He started to climb down. “I’ll go talk to her right now.”

“Good luck,” Atton called after him.

“Thanks,” Bao-Dur said. He wished he could echo the sentiment, but he did not dare. He did not know his General’s heart. He suspected she did not know it, herself.

And then he wondered. How well did he know his own heart?

****

Back inside the ship, he washed his hands and took several calming breaths. It was no use. His heart was beating too fast.

She was in her room, kneeling with her head bowed. “I know why you have come,” she said.

He swallowed hard. “Do you?”

She stood up. “I may not be able to see,” she said, “but I am not blind. I know you are troubled.”

“I want to be sure you understand,” he said. He wanted no secrets between them. If he was to be with her, she needed to know everything.

“You destroyed Malachor V,” Visas said. “I understand this.”

“Then you know what I am,” Bao-Dur said.

“Do you compare yourself to my former master?” she asked. There was a slight edge to her voice. “Do you think the destruction of Malachor is equal to the destruction of Katarr?”

“I know they are not,” he said. His hope was ebbing away. His worst fears had come true. She was angry with him.

“They are not,” Visas agreed. “Malachor was torn by war and bloodshed. My world was peaceful. Malachor was an act of war. My world was innocent.” She lifted her chin. “They are nothing alike, and you are nothing like my former master. I will not hear you speak of such things again.”

Abruptly he realized why she was angry. She did not hate him at all! In fact, she was not pleased that he should think such things about himself. That was why she was angry. Not because he had done those things. But because he blamed himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think…”

“You did what had to be done,” Visas said. “There is no shame in that.”

“Not shame,” he agreed. “Guilt. I feel I must atone for what I did.”

“Becoming a Jedi is the first step on that path,” Visas said. “Alia is right. You must set aside your anger.” She spoke with sorrow. “I struggle every day to forgive my former master for Katarr. Every day my feet walk its ashes again, and I strive to make sense of it.”

She had never really spoken of Katarr to him before. “You can talk about it, if you wish.”

“I do wish to tell you,” Visas said. “But not now. I cannot.” Her voice trembled. “I cannot.”

She was always so strong, so capable. Seeing her like this made Bao-Dur’s chest tighten. He moved toward her, then stopped, wondering if he was presuming too much.

Evidently Visas did not think so. She stepped forward so she was closer to him, so close, and then she was there, and Bao-Dur felt his arms come up and embrace her, moving all on their own.

She leaned her head on his chest. A tremulous sigh escaped her. “I fear I will never leave Katarr,” she confessed. “That I will always walk among its ashes.”

“You won’t,” Bao-Dur told her. She felt so slight in his arms. It seemed impossible that she could be so fragile, and yet so powerful.

“I am afraid,” she whispered. 

“Don’t be.” He looked down at her. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” The desire to protect her washed over him again, so fierce it made him tremble. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She raised her head, seeing him through the Force, seeing his sincerity. “I believe you,” she whispered.

He leaned down. She did not draw away. Gently, his lips touched hers.

Visas sighed. The kiss deepened. Bao-Dur’s heart began to pound. He never wanted to let go of her. He never wanted this moment to end.

Visas sank against him. Her arms had come up to encircle him, although he could not say when that had happened. “Thank you,” she breathed.

“For what?” Bao-Dur asked. He felt light-headed, like he might just laugh out loud with sheer happiness.

“You are the first male I have ever kissed,” Visas said.

He was deeply moved by her confession. He knew she had suffered badly in the service of her master, but he had hoped her life on Katarr had been a happy one. Apparently he had been wrong in thinking so.

“It need not be your last,” he said.

“I hope it is not,” Visas said. She spoke seriously but she was smiling as she said it.

Bao-Dur laughed. He couldn’t help it. He was just too happy.

******

Chapter 7  
Bold Promises

 

Alia was away in Iziz for three days. 

They were the happiest three days of Bao-Dur’s life.

He spent most of the hours with Visas. There was so much to talk about, they hardly knew where to begin.

He told her about Iridonia, about his childhood. He told her how he had watched the Mandalorians come, conquering and enslaving, how his young heart had been exposed to rage.

She talked about Katarr, its meadows and rivers. She told him about the soaring Miraluka cities that had reached into the sky, and the beauty of their towers.

He told her about the war, about being a soldier, and the first time he had ever known battle. He told her about seeing Alia from afar, how having the Jedi on their side had given them all the strength to carry on long after most of them had wanted to lie down and die simply from sheer exhaustion.

She talked about her former master, a cruel man named Darth Nihilus whom she still feared. She talked about learning the Dark Side, and giving in to her anger over the destruction of her world. 

He told her he had thought she was beautiful from the moment he first saw her.

She told him that she had trusted him, when she had feared everyone else on board the ship.

They did not speak of love, but that was all right. For now, Bao-Dur was content to wait. 

****

She taught him about the Force, about being a Jedi. She showed him to see through the Force, and he was filled with awe. “This is how you see,” he breathed.

She smiled. “The galaxy is a very beautiful place when you see it through the Force.”

The leader of the Mandalorians had given them a lightsaber, and Atton let them borrow his, and so they were able to practice combat in the cargo room. Wielding the slender weapon in battle, even a mock one, gave Bao-Dur a new respect for Alia. More than once he had come close to chopping his own foot off; he was amazed now to think how gracefully she wielded her sabers.

Visas showed him how to change the crystals set in the hilt, so he could customize the saber to his own liking. He watched her carefully, but let her choose the crystals. He felt strongly that this new saber should belong to her. He was not ready for one of his own yet. Besides, he was not sure he wanted to wield a weapon that had once belonged to a Mandalorian.

In the evenings they joined the rest of the crew – minus Kreia – for supper. Mira had plenty of stories to share from her days as a bounty hunter, and she kept them laughing. Even Atton stopped scowling long enough to share some ribald jokes, and Bao-Dur usually left the table with his sides aching from laughter.

It felt good to laugh. Even sweeter was hearing Visas laugh. She felt more comfortable among the others now, and Bao-Dur was pleased to see this. During the first night, Mira had seemed a bit wary of her, but after an hour her natural exuberance had banished the last of the barriers, and now the bounty hunter included Visas in her generous conversation.

“You’re a lucky man,” Atton said to him one evening. They were in the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s tiny galley; it was their turn to clean up from supper.

“I know,” Bao-Dur said. “I think maybe I was too hard on myself, all those years. I never let myself be happy.”

“Well, you’re making up for it now,” Atton said. “I just wish…” He made a disgusted sound. “I think I lost my chance,” he said. “After Nar Shaddaa, I really thought we had something. But now, I don’t know anymore.”

Bao-Dur remembered what Visas had said, how Alia was reluctant to choose between the two men who loved her. Visas had said it was because she did not want to hurt either of them. Bao-Dur was not so sure that was right anymore. He thought the truth was more likely that Alia could not choose between Atton and Mical simply because she did not know which one she loved.

“This is not a very good time for love,” Bao-Dur said. It was strange that he could say that word out loud here, but not to Visas. “I am lucky. I am not the one called upon to save the galaxy. Alia has duties and responsibilities that must come first.”

“I know,” Atton sighed. The cleaning-up finished for the night, they walked from the galley, back toward the main hold. “I just hate having to wait,” he said.

Bao-Dur chuckled in sympathy. “I know what you mean,” he said.

“Oh?” Atton gave him a smirk. “So you and Visas still haven’t…?”

“No,” Bao-Dur said, somewhat curtly. He had no intention of discussing such private things. “Like I said, now is not the time.”

He stepped into the main hold, and drew up short. Kreia was standing there, the empty sleeve of her robe dangling like a mute accusation. As always, the sight of her made Bao-Dur’s shoulders tense. He could not say why, but he had never liked the old woman.

“What’s going on?” Atton said, pushing past him. “Oh.” He gave Kreia a stony stare. “What do _you_ want?”

“Fools,” Kreia said scornfully. She looked about the room, fixing each of them with her white gaze. “Your leader is away, and you sit around playing like children.”

Bao-Dur glanced at Visas. She was sitting on the couch beside Mira. Her head was lowered deferentially, making herself less of a target for the old Jedi.

“What do you want us to do?” Mira said with a toss of her head. She had not known Kreia as long as the rest of them, and she had not yet come to fear her.

Kreia snorted. “What I want is of no concern. It is what _she_ wants. Do you really think she would pleased to know you are sitting here, wasting your time and your potential?” She looked at Bao-Dur. “Only the alien has bothered to do anything worthwhile with his time.”

Bao-Dur clenched his hand into a fist. He hated it when she called him the alien, speaking the word with such contempt.

“Yeah? I suppose repairing the ship was a waste of time, too,” Atton said. He folded his arms. “Why don’t you go back to your room, old woman?”

Kreia sniffed. “When I want your opinion, fool, I will ask it. Until then, be silent.”

Atton’s jaw clenched. “You know, I’m getting a little tired of being called a fool.”

“The truth can sometimes be difficult to hear,” Kreia agreed.

Atton’s expression went flat. His hand dropped to his lightsaber. Looking at him in that moment, Bao-Dur was uncomfortably reminded of the fact that Kreia had once called him a murderer.

Kreia was unconcerned by this overt threat. “Do you truly wish to try me, fool?”

“Stop it!” Mira said loudly. She stood up. “What are you, crazy?”

Atton stared at Kreia for a long moment, then slowly he let go of his lightsaber. “I was wrong earlier,” he said, speaking only to Kreia. He pointed at the old woman. “You and me, we’re _not_ done. Not by far.”

Kreia chuckled. “Good. Then there is hope for you yet.”

With that cryptic remark hanging in the air, she glided out of the room, presumably to return to her quarters.

The instant she was gone, Bao-Dur felt the tension in the room lift. He sighed. “That was not a wise move,” he said.

“I don’t care,” Atton said. “I’m sick of her bullying everyone. Someone’s got to do something about her.”

“That is for the Exile to decide,” Visas said quietly. 

“She is right,” Bao-Dur said, defending her. He watched as Visas began to walk back to her room. “We shouldn’t be talking like this.”

There seemed nothing more to say. Kreia had killed the light-hearted mood in the ship, and now he just wanted to be alone with Visas. He followed her through the curving hall until they reached her room. She shook her head. “I do not like this. Thoughts like this will only lead us into danger.”

He had no right to make her any promises, but he could not remain silent. “You don’t have to be afraid of her,” he said. “I will never let her hurt you.” He took her in his arms, closing his eyes as he felt the faint tremors working through her. “She will never harm you. I swear it.”

Visas sighed. “I believe you mean that,” she said.

Bao-Dur put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her. “I mean it,” he vowed.

****

They sat for a time in quiet meditation. Bao-Dur had found meditating difficult at first, but he was getting better at it. It was hard for him to clear his mind. When he sat still, he remembered all the things he was supposed to be doing around the ship, or the droid upgrades he should be working on. He wondered how Alia was faring in Iziz, and if she was regretting her choice of companions. He worried about the Sith threat, and what the Jedi Masters would say once they were all gathered on Dantooine. Most worrying of all, whenever he tried to imagine his future, and how Visas would fit into it, he simply could not do it.

Visas had tolerated his restlessness for two days before losing her patience. “You must stop yourself from having these thoughts,” she had scolded. “Empty your mind of them. Do not devote any more time to them. Concentrate on the Force.”

“I’m trying,” he had said, somewhat peevishly. “I don’t know how.”

She had taken his hands in her own. “Then let me show you.”

With her guidance, he was doing better at clearing his mind. Every time they meditated now, he felt closer to the Force, and more at peace with himself.

So it was rather annoying when, not quite an hour later, their meditation was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

Bao-Dur looked up. “What is it?”

Mira and Atton walked in, appearing none too apologetic about interrupting, either. “We have to talk,” Atton said.

Slowly, Bao-Dur got to his feet. Visas came to stand beside him, her arm just touching his. He found himself wanting to lean into that touch, and had to remind himself firmly to stand still. 

“This is serious,” Mira said. She looked slightly nervous, but determined for all that. Obviously Atton had talked to her first, getting her on his side for whatever plan he had in mind.

Unlike Mira, however, Atton was not nervous. He was very calm as he said, “We have to do something about Kreia.”

Bao-Dur pursed his lips and resisted the urge to push both of them out of the room. It wasn’t fair. He had finally found happiness, and now it was about to be ruined.

“I believe this should be Alia’s decision,” Visas said, repeating her words from earlier. “We are here to support her, not undermine her.”

“Undermine her? Kreia is the only one doing that,” Atton said. He looked at each of them. “You all know where this is going. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants. And by then it will be too late. Alia will be her puppet.”

“You have little faith in her if you believe that,” Visas said. “She will not let Kreia manipulate her so.”

“She already does,” Bao-Dur said sadly. As little as he wanted to admit it, his General listened to Kreia too much. He had seen it on Telos first, and ever since then. No, as frightening as this was, Atton was right. They needed to intervene.

“We can’t do anything just yet, though,” Mira said. “She’ll know it if we plan something. And then she might hurt Alia.”

“She knows our thoughts. She can look into our minds,” Atton said with a grimace.

“Then what do you propose?” Bao-Dur asked.

“We wait,” Atton said. “For now. We watch, and we listen. And when the time is right, we act.”

“How will we know when that is?” Bao-Dur asked. He was relieved to hear that he was not expected to raise arms against Kreia this very night.

“We’ll know,” Mira said confidently. “I figure once we meet with the Jedi Council on Dantooine, a lot of things will be clearer.”

“I am not sure this is a good idea,” Visas said. “I do not like this.”

“No one does,” Atton said flatly. “But it has to be done. We have to protect Alia. That’s the reason we’re all here, right?”

Bao-Dur nodded. He would do anything for his General. For her sake, he would even confront Kreia.

But when it happened, he would not just act to protect Alia. He had made a promise, and he meant to uphold it. He would do everything in his power to prevent Kreia from hurting Visas. He would never be able to live with himself if she was hurt, and he did nothing to stop it.

“Give your word,” Mira said. “That when the time comes, we’ll do whatever is necessary.”

“I swear it,” Atton said without hesitation.

“You have my word,” Bao-Dur said.

Visas spoke last, with uncertainty. “I promise,” she whispered.

“We’re all in this together now,” Atton said. “Mira will talk with Mical when he gets back. If the Mandalorian insists on staying with us, I’ll talk to him.”

“What about the droids?” Bao-Dur asked. He was not at all sure he wanted HK-47 to know their plan, but he had to admit the droid’s firearm skills might come in handy.

“No way,” Mira said. “No droids. This is just us.”

“All right.” Bao-Dur nodded.

But in the back of his mind, he began to wonder if it was maybe time for some new programming for his remote.

Just in case.

******

Chapter 8  
In the Sith Temple

 

Korriban was an ugly planet. Bao-Dur was very thankful that he was not required to go out there.

Kreia announced that she would not set foot on Korriban’s surface. Exasperated, Alia asked Atton to go with her, so she would have a fellow Jedi companion. Then to everyone’s surprise, she turned to HK-47 and told him to get ready – so she would have someone with her who was immune to the Force, just in case the worst should happen.

Within ten minutes of landing on Korriban, she was gone.

****

“I do not think she will find anything here,” Visas said later that day. They sat together in her room after yet another failed attempt at meditation. “I cannot sense any Jedi.”

“Maybe it’s too hard to do it from the ship, with all the influence from the Dark Side,” Bao-Dur suggested. “But if Master Vash is here, Alia will find her.”

Visas did not respond; her silence itself was all the answer she needed.

“You have been very quiet lately,” Bao-Dur said. Since their departure from Onderon, Visas had kept to herself. She no longer ventured out in the evening to mingle with the rest of the crew. He did not know the reasons for this, but he was determined to find out. He wanted her to be happy, and have friends. He did not like to see her alone so much.

Part of that was his fault, he knew. He had been very busy on the trip to Korriban. He had finally found time to perform the upgrades G0-T0 had requested. T3 had needed some routine maintenance, and then half the cameras in the security room had blinked out, and he had spent the better part of a day trying to get them working again. A ship the size of the _Ebon Hawk_ was pretty much in constant need of repair and maintenance, and they were all expected to pitch in and help; even Mira had been spotted on her hands and knees examining the hyperdrive. And somewhere in the midst of all this, he had quietly made some very personal upgrades to his own remote, although no one knew that yet.

Still, he was disappointed to see that Mira and Visas weren’t becoming friends, or that anyone even seemed to notice her absence when they gathered at night to eat supper.

“I have been doing much thinking,” Visas said now. She gave him a sad smile. “Perhaps too much.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I have been thinking about the promise we made,” she said.

Bao-Dur shook his head. “Do not dwell on it,” he said. “That only makes it worse.”

He knew part of the reason he had thrown himself into his work was to forget the vow he had made. If it was not there in his mind, Kreia could not dig it out of his thoughts. Or so he told himself, hoping it was true.

“It is hard not to,” Visas said. “But I know you are right.”

He took her hands and kissed her. “Think of me,” he said.

Visas returned the kiss with surprising fervor. “You are never far from my thoughts,” she whispered.

Hearing the words sent a thrill racing through him. “When this is over,” he said recklessly, “I want you to come with me.”

She frowned. “Where will we go?”

He laughed, still filled with happiness. “Does it matter? We could go back to Telos. They could use a Jedi as strong as you to help with the restoration project.”

“You are a Jedi now too,” Visas reminded him.

“Then we could work together, side by side.” He put his arms around her. “I only know that I want you in my future.”

“And I wish to share it with you.” She laid her head on his chest. “I worry that we should not think of such things. They are too dangerous.”

His happiness dimmed. She was right. They were engaged in a dangerous mission to stop the Sith. Battle lay ahead, and there were sure to be casualties. Yet knowing all this only made Bao-Dur more certain that they should enjoy what they had. If their time together was to be short, he wanted the end to come knowing he had lived that time to its fullest.

****

Alia was on Korriban for a day and a night. When she returned the next morning, she was pale and subdued. HK-47 returned to his place in the garage and shut down immediately. Atton went straight to the cockpit without a word to anyone, and within minutes the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s engines were powering up.

No one mentioned the missing Jedi Master.

Reluctantly, Bao-Dur told Alia that they had received a message from the Mandalorians on Dxun. Master Kavar needed their help.

She merely nodded when she heard this news. “Thank you, Bao-Dur.”

And so they returned to Dxun.

****

This time no one stayed behind at the ship. They all followed the Mandalorian guide back to the camp.

Where, to Bao-Dur’s immense annoyance, Kreia took charge.

The old woman had something to say to everything. She knew about the Sith temple hidden in the jungle. She sniffed at the Mandalorians, calling them “common soldiers” and saying contemptuously that their military tactics were nothing compared to the Force. And then she turned to Alia and said, “You must choose who will lead the expedition through the jungle to find our enemies and defeat them.”

Bao-Dur did not like her attitude, not one bit. She seemed to be challenging Alia, daring her to make a wrong choice. 

Alia lifted her chin imperceptibly, perhaps realizing that she was being tested here. “Visas Marr would be ideal for the job,” she said.

Bao-Dur caught his breath. He did not want Visas going out there into the jungle. The mission to stop the Sith sounded very dangerous; plus he was not sure how she would fare when faced with her former allies.

Visas herself revealed nothing of her thoughts on the matter. She merely said, “I will serve as you wish.”

Surprisingly, Kreia had no comment on this choice. Her voice remained bland as she said, “You should send two others to go with the leader. Who else will accompany the expedition?”

Alia did not hesitate. “Bao-Dur.”

Kreia nodded. “Yes…good choice. And who else?”

Bao-Dur’s shoulders sagged with relief. If Visas had to go, at least he would be going with her. He was too relieved to even care that Kreia had given him a compliment.

Alia looked at each of her companions. “Mira,” she finally decided.

The corner of Kreia’s mouth twitched, as though she was trying not to smile. “Hmm…okay,” she said.

Instantly Mira bristled with outrage. “What is that supposed to mean? You don’t think I can handle it out there?”

Before Kreia could say anything, Alia touched Mira’s arm. “I know you can,” she said. “That is why I chose you.”

Somewhat mollified, Mira backed down, but not before giving Kreia an angry glare.

There was no reason to delay. Alia ordered them to leave right away. “Be careful,” she said. The strain of sending her friends into harm’s way showed on her face. “And may the Force be with you.”

****

A few Mandalorian soldiers accompanied them as they made their way through the jungle. Visas led them confidently, her step unfaltering. She carried a lightsaber now, twin green blades that cut down any beasts in their way. Alia had found it in a cave on Korriban, but beyond that she would not say anything about it. Visas had thanked her solemnly as she had received it, but Bao-Dur had felt her pleasure at being given the weapon. Now she truly felt like a Jedi.

As for himself, he carried a short lightsaber, another gift from his General. The hilt banged against his hip with every step he took. He had ignited it long enough to see that the blade was yellow, before quickly powering it down. Wielding a lightsaber in actual combat would be very different from practice sessions in the cargo hold of the _Ebon Hawk._ He was not sure he was ready for this.

They entered a short tunnel, and Visas stopped short. Mines lay ahead, and beyond them, a perimeter sensor designed to sound the alarm should anyone approach too closely. Bao-Dur peered at it, recognizing it even from a distance. It was a Czerka design, and he knew the corporate override code. If they could get up to it, the code would disable the sensor.

Visas surveyed the situation for a long moment, then turned to Mira. “If you use Bao-Dur’s code, can you disarm the sensor?” She did not ask if Mira could handle the mines; she already knew the answer to that.

Mira nodded. “Sure,” she said. “Who’s got a stealth generator?”

“I do.” Bao-Dur fumbled in his pack until he found it, then handed it to Mira. She buckled it on and grinned.

“Well, I’m off. Don’t wait up, kiddies.” She activated the stealth generator, and disappeared from sight.

They followed her slow progress forward by the way the mines would suddenly blink out, black and disabled. With every second, Bao-Dur expected to hear the piercing bray of the alarm, but it never came.

Mira turned off the stealth generator and appeared standing by the disabled perimeter sensor. She waved a hand. “Come on over,” she called.

Smiling, Bao-Dur did just that.

****

The battle to reach the top of the temple seemed to last for years. Just when he thought they had surely wiped out all the enemy, more soldiers poured forth, more droids marched forward.

It was never-ending, that battle. He clung to his lightsaber with both hands, desperately afraid of losing it. He was appalled at how easy it was to shear off hands and legs with the shining yellow blade. But he could not stop and give in to his horror. This was war, and there would be no rest until all the enemy was slaughtered.

Inch by inch, they made their way up the ramp to the top of the temple. Dark Jedi called upon the Force, searing him with lightning. He saw Visas fall to her knees, and in utter panic, he reached out with the Force, attempting to heal her wounds. After that she managed to lurch to her feet and carry on, but he could see that she would not last much longer.

Behind them, Mira showered the Sith with rockets and grenades. Clouds of poison gas rose into the air, making Bao-Dur’s eyes sting with acid tears. His energy shield ran out of charges, and after that blaster bolts found him everywhere, wringing cries of pain from his throat. He tried deflecting them with his lightsaber, but there were too many of them, and he could not catch them all.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Visas go down. This time she did not get up again.

“Visas!” he called her name, but the sound was lost under the thunder of battle. He staggered in her direction. One of the Sith battle droids stood over her, ready to cut her down.

He acted without thinking. With the last of his failing strength, he flung out a hand and pushed with the Force. The droid was hurled backward a few paces, but then it instantly began moving in again.

Bao-Dur raised his hand again, but he had nothing left to give. A blaster bolt scorched along his chest, and suddenly he was falling. 

His last conscious thought was that he had failed the one person he truly loved.

****

When he came to, it was to the sight of Mira frowning down at him. Smoke darkened her face, and blood dripped down her cheek from a cut above her eye. “Go slow,” she said. “You took some bad hits. I had to use a lot of medpacs to get you to wake up.”

“Visas.” His voice was hoarse. He turned his head, frantic to see her, to know what had happened to her.

She was sitting up not far from where he lay. Her head was bowed. Her robe was charred black in places, and a great rip on the shoulder revealed her undertunic. “I am all right,” she said faintly. “Lie still.”

The Force washed over him, soothing and calming. It healed the worst of his injuries and gave him renewed strength. Before long he was able to sit up, and not long after that, he could stand once more.

Visas rose to her feet, swaying slightly. “I fear the worst lies ahead,” she murmured.

“Thanks,” Mira said. “Like I really needed to hear that.”

“She is right,” Bao-Dur, springing to Visas’s defense. “This was just the outer guard for the temple. We do not know what awaits us inside.”

Mira let out a sigh. “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out, right?”

****

When they entered the temple, one of the Mandalorians came with them and told them that the rest of their squad was en route to Iziz. He also told them that this was no ordinary temple. It was a tomb, the final resting place of a Sith Lord named Freedon Nadd.

“The echoes of his life are still here,” Visas said. “I feel secrets can be learned here.”

This did not reassure Bao-Dur. He felt that any secrets that could be learned in a Sith Lord’s tomb were secrets best left undiscovered.

The tomb was heavily guarded. As they fought through the halls, however, Bao-Dur felt a cautious sense of optimism. They were holding their own. And with every use of the Force, he felt it surge stronger within him, guiding him in its ways and teaching him how to be a better Jedi.

In one of the rooms, dark, pulsating energy covered a wide patch of the floor. Bao-Dur eyed it warily. “Something feels wrong here. I don’t think we should get any closer to it.” He shook his head. He was under no illusions about how strong a Jedi he was, but even he could sense the dark side here. 

Mira scrunched up her face, obviously not wanting to get anywhere near the energy field. “This…thing…has to be part of the reason why the Sith are so interested in this place.”

“But it may give us a clue about what is happening,” Visas said. Her head was cocked slightly to one side as she contemplated the energy field.

Bao-Dur took her arm. “Do not go in there,” he pleaded.

“Well, I won’t tell you how to do your job,” Mira said. “But I know that I wouldn’t get near it.”

Visas looked at him. For a moment Bao-Dur contemplated pulling her toward him and refusing to let go. Then he lifted his hand from her arm.

Calmly she walked forward, until she was surrounded by the pulsating energy of the dark side. She swayed and gasped, and then folded to her knees.

“Get her out of there!” Mira cried, lunging forward.

“No!” Bao-Dur held out his arm. “She has to do this.” 

He prayed he was doing the right thing. Visas bowed her head as the dark side washed over her. She trembled all over, but she remained silent.

 _Please,_ he thought desperately. _Please, do not give in._

With a shaky sigh, Visas rose to her feet. She backed away until she was no longer standing in the energy field. She looked very pale, but her head was high. “I have proven stronger than it,” she said.

Bao-Dur’s shoulders sagged. He swept her into his arms. “Don't do that again!” he breathed.

She hugged him back. “I won’t have to,” she said.

****

At last they came upon the three Sith Lords working on the ritual. Their leader stepped forward, a triumphant smirk on his face. “You are too late!” he crowed.

Bao-Dur held his lightsaber at the ready. He did not know what dark magic the Sith had been attempting, but he was not about to let them finish what they had started.

“But what is this?” the Sith asked in genuine puzzlement. “Ah, of course. The Force has guided you here. It echoes within you, yet I sense it is untrained.” He nodded smugly. “It is good you have sought us out. This tomb is strong with the dark side. Here is where you will take your first steps on the path to your destiny.”

Visas spoke clearly, her voice ringing throughout the tomb. “I will not walk the path of the dark side.”

Love for her filled Bao-Dur’s heart. Twice now she had been tested, and twice she had passed. She was truly a Sith no more. She was a Jedi Knight, and she was more than worthy to stand in the light.

“So be it,” snapped the Sith Lord, and battle was joined.

But the real battle, the one that Alia had known must take place – for why else had she named Visas as their leader? – had already happened. And victory was theirs.

**** 

When it was all over, when the tomb was empty and still, and the three Sith Lords lay dead upon the floor, they looked up at the soldier who came running up to make his report. His helmet made it impossible to tell what he was thinking, but there was no disguising the awe in the Mandalorian’s voice.

They stood together, Bao-Dur on her right, and Mira on her left. They were injured and exhausted, but they were still standing tall.

“We are ready to go,” Visas told him. “Tell us, what happened to Alia?”

*******

Chapter 9  
What Happens on Dantooine  
(aka: The Exile and Bao-Dur Have a Talk)

 

Queen Talia’s reign was restored, and Onderon was at peace again. The victory, however, was short-lived for the crew of the _Ebon Hawk._ Within scant hours of securing the palace, the ship was en route to Dantooine.

There was noticeable tension in the cramped corridors of the ship now. After Alia spoke with the Jedi Masters at the Enclave, nothing would be the same again. Everyone knew it, but no one wanted to talk about it.

At least, no one talked about it within Bao-Dur’s presence. He found this suited him just fine. He did his best talking when he was alone with Visas, anyway.

The seer was concerned. “They may try to take the Force from her again. They may not be willing to forgive her.”

“She has done much good,” Bao-Dur said. They were sitting on Visas’s bed. She was curled between his legs, her back resting against his chest. “The Jedi Code instructs them to forgive.”

“No one is beyond redemption,” Visas agreed quietly.

Bao-Dur nodded. He had his arms around her. He turned his head so he could rest his cheek on the top of her head. “I fear they will try to exile her again,” he confessed. He had never known any of the Jedi Masters they were about to meet, but they sounded harsh from the tales he had heard. “They may not want her help when they battle the Sith.”

“She has done more than anyone to stop them,” Visas said. “Surely the Jedi on Dantooine will recognize this.”

“I hope so,” Bao-Dur said.

They lapsed into silence. This was not a bad thing. Bao-Dur loved sitting with her, just feeling her in his arms, knowing she was close. He had not yet found the courage to tell her that he loved her, but he suspected that she knew anyway. The Force had bound them together, and they could sense each other’s feelings. Surely she knew his heart, had known it at almost the same moment he had learned the truth.

He hoped she loved him in return. He thought she did, but he could not be sure. He did not know if what he sensed in her was only his heart’s hope, or if the emotion was genuine. Nor would he ask. She would tell him when she was ready, the same way he would say the words when the time was right.

Until then, he was content with what he had.

****

When they reached Dantooine, Atton set the ship down just outside the Jedi Enclave. The crew gathered in the main hold, more nervous even than when they had landed on Korriban.

“I cannot ask any of you to come with me,” Alia said. She was even paler than usual, her features set. “I must go alone.”

“If that is what you feel you must do,” Kreia said.

“It is,” Alia said. “Please remain on board.” She glanced at Atton. “Be ready to take off at any moment.”

“We are with you,” Mical said firmly. He tried to catch Alia’s eye, but she would not look at him. Her gaze was now fixed on a point on the wall.

“Statement: Master, I do not recommend walking alone into this trap. You are very clever for a meatbag, but you do have a rather unfortunate tendency towards gullibility.”

Mandalore hefted his rifle. “The droid is right. You need some backup. Let me go with you. I’ve had plenty of sniper practice. Those Jedi won’t even know I’m there.”

“Oh, they will know,” Kreia pronounced, in such tones of doom that even Mandalore shrank back. “No, Alia is right. She must do this alone. None of you can help her.”

Alia took a deep breath. “I will be back as soon as I can.” She looked about the circle of her companions without managing to make any real eye contact. Then she squared her shoulders and walked from the room.

For a moment they stood where they were, no one wanting to be the first to walk away. Then Kreia sniffed and turned around, headed back to her quarters. 

Her departure was the signal that it was all right to go. Mical shuffled toward the medbay and his endless supply of books and datapads. Atton hurried toward the cockpit, no doubt wanting to watch Alia until she disappeared out of sight. Bao-Dur sighed and made his way to the lift leading to the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s exterior hull. T3 had informed him that it was malfunctioning, and he wanted to take a look at it while the ship was on the ground.

The lift was indeed not working properly. It would only rise a few meters before coming to a halt; during its descent, the downward motion was very jerky and erratic. Clearly something was wrong with the circuits, but he would have to take it apart to know for sure.

Frowning with concentration, he didn’t even know he was no longer alone until a hand fell on his shoulder. Gasping with fright, he whirled around and found himself face to face with Atton.

“We’ve got problems,” the pilot said.

“What’s wrong?” Bao-Dur asked, trying to control his pounding heart.

“That old schutta is what’s wrong,” Atton said. “She just slipped off the ship. She’s following Alia into the Enclave.”

Bao-Dur’s eyes widened. “Kreia went into the Enclave?”

“Didn’t I just say that?” Atton said in some exasperation. “Come on.” He began walking away.

“Where are we going?” Bao-Dur hurried to keep up. He was not keen on the idea of following Kreia. It was bad enough that the old woman had disobeyed Alia. He had no intention of doing the same thing.

“Nowhere,” Atton said. “For now.” He led Bao-Dur into the cockpit. “We can watch from here. That’s how I saw Kreia going in.” He gestured at the viewport. “Best seat in the house if you want to know what’s going on around you.”

“What are we watching for?” Bao-Dur asked. Unless smoke or visible magic filled the sky above the Enclave, they would not be able to see anything at all.

“I don’t know,” Atton said impatiently. “But whatever’s going to happen, I don’t want to miss it.”

Bao-Dur nodded. On this he could agree. If something bad was going to happen in the Enclave, he wanted to be in a position to help Alia.

He felt it then. A great lurch in the Force. It made him feel physically ill, so that he doubled up, clutching his abdomen.

Somewhere, something terrible was happening.

“What is it?” he groaned.

“Alia.” Atton half-rose to his feet, then sank back into his chair. His face was tight with pain. “We have to do something.”

That terrible sense of wrong increased, and now it filled all of Bao-Dur’s senses. He was helpless before it, clutching at his head as though he could somehow make it stop if only he squeezed hard enough.

And then it was over, as quickly as it had come upon them.

“That’s it,” Atton said. He jumped up. “We have to help her.”

Bao-Dur did not need to be told twice. “Let me get my lightsaber,” he said.

“Wait.” Atton leaned forward, peering through the viewport. “I don’t believe this. Look!”

Bao-Dur turned and saw. Kreia, coming out of the Enclave. Alone.

“What did she do?” Atton snarled. “That bitch!” He hurried forward, pushing Bao-Dur out of the way. 

“Don’t!” Bao-Dur called after him. If Kreia was responsible for what he had just felt – and there seemed to be little doubt that she was – then Atton stood no chance against her at all.

“She won’t get away with this,” Atton warned. His voice was cold, and deeper than usual. With a start, Bao-Dur realized that he was looking now at the murderer Kreia had once spoken of with such contempt, and he redoubled his efforts. He had to stop Atton from doing whatever rash actions the pilot had planned.

He caught up to Atton in the main hold. Mira, Visas, and Mical stood there with Mandalore, having being drawn out by the wrong they had sensed in the Force. “What’s going on?” Mandalore demanded. “Why is everyone acting like they suddenly took sick?”

“Kreia,” Atton growled.

As if in response to hearing her name, the old woman appeared in the doorway. She did not falter, but kept walking further into the room, apparently unconcerned by the sight of them waiting for her.

“What did you do to her?” Atton shouted.

“Silence!” Kreia snapped. “I will not be accused by the likes of you.”

Atton drew his lightsaber. “You will answer me, or you will die, right now.”

“You threaten me?” Kreia sneered. “I did not know you were so eager to join those lying dead in the Enclave!”

The words hit Bao-Dur like a bolt of lightning.

Alia was dead. 

No, it could not be true. It could not be true!

“You lie,” Mira said loudly.

“Do you truly believe I care what you think?” Kreia scoffed.

“She was our last chance,” Mical said. He sounded stunned, unable to believe what he had just heard. “And now she is dead. They have won.”

“The last of the Jedi is dead,” Mira said. “It is over.” She looked like she was about to faint.

“No,” Visas said. “Now it begins. In hatred, there is unity. Against a common foe, even enemies may stand side by side. Now they will turn on each other, and the betrayals will begin. They will feed on each other, until only one remains. That which waits in the darkness will now show itself... and now the galaxy will begin to die.”

“The Sith Lords,” Mical said quietly.

“It is not over,” Visas said. “We must carry on in her stead. It is what she would want.”

Bao-Dur could not speak. He felt cold and numb, as if someone had reached inside his chest and replaced his heart with a block of ice. Alia was dead. She would never again stride up the loading ramp. She would never again grin at him over her flashing lightsaber blades. She would never again ask him to follow her lead, trusting him completely to watch her back.

She was gone.

Beside him, Atton seemed equally devastated. The pilot stood still, holding his lightsaber loosely. His eyes were dark with grief and other, nameless emotions.

Uncaring what her words had wrought, Kreia continued to make her way through the room, toward her quarters. No one made any move to stop her.

And then the women in white attacked.

They came out of nowhere, women wearing identical faces and bearing no weapons. They took down Mandalore and Mical within seconds. Bao-Dur barely had time to blink, it all happened so fast.

“They want the ship!” Mira cried as she grappled with one of the women.

“Like hell!” Atton shouted, jolted out of his fugue by the sudden battle. He raced toward the cockpit, and one of the white-clad women chased after him.

Bao-Dur did not even move as one of them approached him. “You were on Telos,” he breathed. “I remember you.”

The woman’s face did not change. She merely threw herself into the fight.

He met her attack as best he could. His General was dead, but Visas was still here, very much alive. For her sake, he had to try and repel these invaders.

It took all of two seconds for Bao-Dur to realize he was hopelessly outmatched. It took another two seconds for his unconscious body to hit the ground.

****

When he came to, an excited babble of voices met his ears. Wincing, he started to sit up, and a hand touched his face. “You are all right,” Visas said in relief.

He looked up at her. She appeared unhurt. “So are you.”

He let her pull him to his feet. “What happened?”

The main hold was a scene of chaos. Broken furniture littered the room. There was blood on the floor. Mandalore was still out cold. Mira slumped on the couch, moaning with her head in her hands. Mical was crouched over the fallen Mandalorian, speaking urgently while trying to wake the man. HK-47 stood guard over them all, a blaster rifle held ready to fire. And T3 rocked in the corner, hooting mournfully at the sight of such destruction.

Visas waited until she had his full attention, then she smiled. “Alia is back,” she said.

Bao-Dur’s heart leapt. “What?”

He heard her voice then, and he turned around. She was just walking into the hold with Atton, who had one hand pressed to a bleeding cut on his forehead. She looked dreadful, her face white and strained, but she was quite obviously not dead.

“They came for Kreia,” Alia said. “And you were the ones who suffered.” Her voice trembled and nearly broke. “I am so sorry.”

Mical stood up. “We would face any battle for you,” he declared.

His answer seemed to cause Alia great pain. She closed her eyes. “I know you would,” she said quietly.

“What do we do now?” Mira asked. She had lowered her hands from her head, but she was still squinting painfully.

Alia opened her eyes. “The Jedi Masters are dead,” she said. “Kreia killed them. Now we must find her. We go to Telos. That is where the handmaidens have taken her.”

“To Atris,” Atton said.

Alia nodded. “To Atris.”

****

That night Bao-Dur could not sleep. The _Ebon Hawk_ was moving through hyperspace on its way to Telos. Similarly, his thoughts were racing along, unwilling to slow down enough to allow him to sleep.

He kept wondering what he would do if he ever thought Visas was dead.

He wondered what he would do if she truly did die.

He wondered how he would be able to go on living, if that should happen.

Restlessly he paced the corridors of the ship. And when he entered the engine room and found Alia standing there, he could not entirely claim to be surprised.

She was gazing at the engines, her eyes unfocused. But when he walked in, her head snapped up, and she became very alert. “Bao-Dur.”

He winced to see her like this. In the dim light of the engine room, shadows crept across her face. She looked like a woman on the verge of having a breakdown. He knew she had spent some time in meditation with Mical earlier, but he had not seen or heard from her since then. He wondered how long she had been hiding back here. “What’s troubling you, General?”

She grimaced. “Please, don’t call me that. I haven’t been your General in a very long time.”

“Of course, Gen--” He caught himself. “Alia.”

She gave him a wan smile. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to be alone?” He made a vague gesture behind him. It was hard to find privacy on a starship, but she deserved the solitude, if that was what she desired.

“No,” she said. “In fact, I would like to talk with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind, Gen--” Again he cut off the word. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to tell you that I am happy for you.” She tried to smile again, and succeeded a little better this time.

“Happy for me?” he repeated stupidly.

“I have seen you and Visas,” Alia said. “I know you have found happiness together. I am glad to know that.”

Bao-Dur flushed. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“It’s so important,” Alia said quietly. “Loving someone. Having someone to stand beside you.”

He made a noise of agreement, not sure how he was supposed to respond to this. He wondered what had happened between her and Mical, why she should suddenly be speaking about love.

She turned to him. “You do love her?”

Bao-Dur nodded. “I do.”

“And does she know this?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure. I think she does.”

“If you have not told her, you should,” Alia said sharply. “She deserves to know. To hear it from your lips.”

Chastened, he nodded quickly. “I will tell her.”

“Good.” Her voice softened. “Someone on this ship needs to hear it.”

He looked up at her. “General?”

She did not correct him this time. Sadness etched lines on her face, reminding him that she was not young anymore. She had seen too much death to ever be truly young again. “I cannot say the words,” she said. “So someone must. It has to be you, Bao-Dur.”

“But you--” He fumbled to understand her. “You are allowed to love.”

“I cannot.” She turned away from him to stare once more at the engines. “I must seek my destiny alone. I cannot ask him to come with me.” She sighed shakily. “Like Revan before me, I cannot take anyone where I go. I cannot ask that of anyone.”

“If someone loves you, they will go with you anywhere,” Bao-Dur said. He did not know whom she spoke of, but he knew both Atton and Mical would follow her across the galaxy.

“That does not make it right,” Alia said sadly.

Sudden suspicion filled his heart. “When you go, will you not take anyone with you?”

“I don’t know,” she said to the engines. “I have not decided yet.”

“Then let it be our decision,” Bao-Dur said. “Let us choose if we go with you, or if we make our own way.”

She nodded. “I suppose you are right,” she said faintly, in a tone that made him wonder if she had even heard him.

“Do you ever wonder why you are with me?” she asked. “Why you follow me?”

“Because you are my General,” Bao-Dur said without hesitation. “I trust in your leadership. And I know you are doing the right thing in trying to stop the Sith threat.”

Alia smiled vaguely at the walls. “I see.”

Bao-Dur frowned, suddenly convinced that he had given the wrong answer to her question. But he did not know what else he could have said. He had answered her honestly.

“If I order you to stay behind on Telos, will you do it?” She was looking at him again, her eyes clear. 

He wanted to say yes, that he would obey any command of hers. But for some reason, he could not do it. The words stuck in his throat.

Yet oddly enough, his silence seemed to give her strength. She nodded. “Good,” she said.

They had never spoken so frankly, and he doubted they ever would again. He felt no fear at all to ask, “Why are you so determined to deny yourself friendship and love?”

To his horror, her eyes filled with tears. “If you think that is what I want, you are very mistaken.” She took a deep breath, regaining control of herself. “But what I want does not matter. There is only what I must do.”

He wished he could ease her pain, that he could bear some of her burdens, even if only for a short while. It was not right that she should suffer alone.

And then he realized, he was not the one she should be talking to. He was not the one she really wanted.

“Go to him,” he said. “Talk to him. Share this time with him, however long it may last.” He thought of Visas, and his promise to make the most of the time he had with her. “You do not have to be alone.”

Alia stared at him for a long moment, tears standing in her eyes once more. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.

“We are all afraid,” Bao-Dur told her. “But fear is easier to bear when you share it with someone.” He knew this to be true. He could face anything if Visas stood beside him. With her at his side, nothing was impossible, nothing could defeat him.

“You’ve gotten so wise,” Alia said, trying to laugh. It came out more like a sob, but Bao-Dur was nonetheless heartened to see her make the effort. “Or were you always this wise, and I just never noticed?”

“That’s what happens to us mere techs,” Bao-Dur said. “We’re always overlooked.”

This time she did laugh, and the tears were banished. She came toward him and hugged him tight. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear. “Thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said. Clumsily he raised his arms, but she was already stepping back, and so he quickly lowered his hands back to his sides. 

She smiled at him. “You are right, Bao-Dur. Seize your happiness now. You never know how long it will last.” She gestured with her chin. “Go back to her now. Go and tell her you love her.”

“I will.” He preceded her out of the engine room. “And you, General?”

She laughed, and now she sounded like a young girl, carefree and happy. “I am about to take my own advice.”

Bao-Dur smiled. “I am glad to hear it.”

She walked off, moving toward the main hold.

Bao-Dur watched her go. Though he knew he should remain where he was, his curiosity was too great. He had to know whom she had chosen to give her heart to. Quietly he followed her.

She walked slowly, but with purpose. She did not turn around. She did not stop.

She just went straight to the cockpit.

*******

Chapter 10  
Waiting

 

They went straight to Telos, to the hidden academy in the polar regions. Alia forbade anyone from leaving the ship. “I must do this alone,” she said.

Bao-Dur watched her go. He knew nothing would be resolved on Telos. Kreia was no longer here. He was beginning to have an ugly suspicion of their final destination. Even thinking of it chilled his heart, but oddly enough, it only firmed his resolve. Soon they would all be tested, and not all of them would pass.

Whatever happened, he must be ready.

While the others meditated or played pazaak or otherwise whiled away the time, Bao-Dur seized what might be his last chance to use the garage. He looked at his remote, the companion he had known since he was a kid. 

“I have some final upgrades for you,” he said.

The remote bwooped at him.

Bao-Dur nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I know.”

**** 

Alia returned after a few hours. Her expression was grim. “Citadel Station needs our help.” She would not say what had happened with Atris.

It was a shock to see Citadel Station under attack. Before hiding out in the restoration zone, Bao-Dur had lived there. He had been on friendly terms with many of the station’s residents, and more than once he had shared a drink with them in the cantina, bemoaning Czerka Corp and its influence on the restoration project.

Once, he had considered Citadel Station his home.

Now red light bathed the halls. The residents had either been evacuated or were in hiding. Deadly mines had been set, and Sith and their droids were everywhere. The contrast between the peaceful, noisy place he remembered and this wartorn, empty shell was almost painful.

It would have been easy to fall back into his old ways, and let his anger rule him, but he did not succumb. He was a Jedi now, and he was not supposed to give in to his emotions. He was glad Alia chose him to accompany her, but he did not let himself dwell on thoughts of revenge. This was not the Mandalorian Wars, and he was not fighting to avenge fallen Iridonians. This was Citadel Station, and the people here could still be saved.

It was heartening to see how many systems had rallied to Telos’s aid. There were men from Onderon and Dantooine fighting alongside the regular TSF soldiers. Bao-Dur looked at them and knew their presence was all Alia’s doing. Zherron and Queen Talia had been so affected by what Alia had done for them, that they in turn were performing acts of charity and generosity. No one had forced them to send soldiers, but they had done it anyway.

And maybe this was not the same war as ten years ago, but one thing was still the same. When the common soldiers saw three Jedi step forward to help them, each and every one of them felt a little bit stronger. They stood a little straighter. Some of the tension eased from their shoulders. The Jedi were here. Now they were saved.

Alia began speaking to Zherron from Dantooine. Bao-Dur glanced around, noticing the way the soldiers stared at him with interest. He supposed none of them had ever seen a Zabrak Jedi before.

“Little different than the last time we were here,” Atton said.

Bao-Dur turned to the pilot. “Yes,” he said. “Very different.”

“I forgot, you used to live here, didn’t you?” Atton said.

“Apartment C3,” Bao-Dur said. “It was too much room for just me and the remote, but that was okay.”

Atton stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “C3. I should have known.” He gestured to Alia. “That was the apartment the TSF gave us when we first landed here.”

Bao-Dur was not really surprised. “After I fled planetside, the apartment would have been empty. Normally they would have assigned it to someone right away; there’s usually a long waiting list for those apartments. I guess it really was the will of the Force that brought you here.”

“That, and the fact that it was the only planet logged into the Peragus navigational charts,” Atton said.

Shaking his head, Bao-Dur just laughed.

**** 

In the end it was not so bad. The Sith were repelled, and with the exception of one soldier from Onderon, no one was even badly injured. It was not long before Citadel Station was free of the Sith threat.

On the ground, at least.

They stood waiting for the shuttle to the docking bay. Alia was still frowning, but Bao-Dur was cautiously optimistic. The battle had gone far better than he would ever have imagined. He was stronger in the Force than ever before, and more importantly, he felt the _rightness_ of what he was doing.

The shuttle arrived, and to Bao-Dur’s surprise, a group of Mandalorians stepped off. His reflexive reaction was to grip his lightsaber tight, but he relaxed when he recognized Mandalore. The leader of the Mandalorians had left them earlier, saying he was going to gather his soldiers. At the time Bao-Dur had been skeptical, but now he was forced to admit that he had been wrong. Despite being a Mandalorian, the man apparently kept his word.

Mandalore had a plan to infiltrate the _Ravager,_ which was still orbiting overhead. Alia listened carefully, nodding as though she liked what she heard. Bao-Dur was a bit apprehensive, especially when Mandalore said, “Let we Mandalorians lead the charge into battle and victory!”

Alia started to answer, but a quiet voice interrupted before she was barely begun. “You will not face this alone.”

Bao-Dur whirled around, too dismayed to speak. He had not sensed her approach. He had not heard her walk up behind him. She was just there, when all this time he had thought she was safely on the ship. “I will go with you, and be by your side,” said Visas.

The Mandalorians reacted with poorly concealed surprise, each one reaching for his weapon. Atton started in shock, and even Alia’s eyes widened. None of them had expected this. None of them seemed to know what to say.

Bao-Dur knew what he _wanted_ to say. He wanted to grab Visas’s arm and walk her back to the ship. He wanted her far away from this place, as far away as possible. He wanted to tell her that it was too dangerous, that she must not go back to the _Ravager._

He wanted to tell her that she could not go, because he loved her.

But he could not say it. He was too cowardly. Alia was braver than he was, as he had always known. She had said the words to Atton, but he had not said them to Visas. He had tried, truly he had, but the words had lodged in his throat and refused to budge. And now, when he yearned to say them above all else, he was once again struck mute.

Alia hesitated. She glanced at him, clearly wanting his opinion. Bao-Dur returned her gaze, trying with all his might to keep his face blank. He did not want anyone else to know his fears.

No one objected. No one said anything at all. So at last Alia looked at Visas and said, “Stay close to me.”

****

The hours ticked by, excruciatingly long. He paced the small confines of the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s cockpit, clenching and unclenching his fists. The light of his artificial arm glowed unnaturally bright, making him wince. He did not want to look at this reminder of what could happen to people in battle. He did not want to think about Visas losing an arm. Or worse.

“Would you stop that?” Atton sighed. “It’s getting on my nerves.”

Bao-Dur did not stop pacing. “Sorry. I just…this is very difficult, just waiting around, wondering what’s happening out there.”

“You think this is boring?” Atton dealt himself a hand of pazaak. “You should try sitting in a force cage for three days on Peragus. Now _that_ was some exciting times, let me tell you.”

“Three days?” He was aghast. “What did you do all that time?”

“Played a lot of pazaak,” Atton said as he laid out his side deck.

Bao-Dur shook his head. Maybe Atton could lose himself in a card game, but he could not. Visas had been gone for five hours. The tiny shuttle had been filled with Mandalorians; against the backdrop of all that armor Alia and Visas had looked ridiculously tiny wearing just their Jedi robes. There had been no farewells exchanged, no parting words. They had simply left.

“Sit down,” Atton suggested. “Why don’t we play a few hands? Or we could try dejarik. I’m pretty sure I saw a board back there somewhere.”

“No,” Bao-Dur said. He could not spare any of his thoughts for something as feeble as a game.

He wanted to be with her. That was why it was so hard to be stuck down here, waiting. He wanted to be with Visas aboard the _Ravager._ He wanted to be with her when she confronted her old master again. And since he could not be with her in body, he wanted to be with her in spirit. Through the Force, it was possible. They were well on their way to being bonded together. If something happened to her, he was confident that he would know it. But for that to happen, he had to focus.

“Can I ask you something?” Atton’s voice broke into his concentration, making him clench his jaw. 

“What is it?” He reached the end of the cockpit, where the galaxy map shown bright, and did an abrupt about-face.

“What was she like, in the war?”

Bao-Dur stopped pacing. “You mean Alia.”

Atton nodded. “Yeah.” He looked somewhat embarrassed to be asking such a personal question. “Was she like she is now?”

“Didn’t you already ask me this?” Bao-Dur shook his head. “I didn’t know her, Atton. She was a General. I was just a tech.”

“But you knew of her,” Atton persisted. “You saw her in action, that kind of thing.”

There was no way he was going to get out of this, Bao-Dur realized. Sighing inwardly, he walked over to the co-pilot’s seat and plopped himself down. “Well, there was this one time…”

****

As it turned out, waiting for Visas to return was not so bad when he had someone to talk to.

He learned that Atton had been in the war too. They had not fought in any of the same battles, but that did not matter. Suddenly they had something in common, and it was easier to talk about things. Bao-Dur was surprised to hear Atton’s version of events of the battle of Serroco, and Atton was similarly amazed to learn what had really happened at Malachor V. 

“That was you,” the pilot breathed. “Wow.”

“I am not proud of what I did,” Bao-Dur said. Malachor would haunt him until his dying day. “But I hope I can make up for it. I think being a Jedi is a step in the right direction.”

“Yeah,” Atton said, staring fixedly at the blinking lights on the console. “I know what you mean. About atonement and all.” But he did not say why he understood this concept.

“You know we have to go back there,” Bao-Dur said. He thought about Mira and Mical, who had not once come up to the cockpit to visit or ask any questions. He wondered if they too knew where their path led them, and if they were trying to prepare themselves as best they could.

“Why do you think I programmed the hyperspace routes to Malachor into the navicomputer three days ago?” Atton said. “Yeah, I know that’s where we’re headed. I think I’ve known it for a long time. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

Bao-Dur nodded in sympathy. He knew all too well how it felt, that instinctive turning away from what you knew you had to face. “I want to tell you something,” he said.

Atton looked at him expectantly. “What?”

Keeping his voice low, just in case anyone was lurking outside the cockpit, Bao-Dur explained about the remote, and the new programming he had only recently finished. “I hope it will not be needed, but something tells me that it will.”

“I hope you’re wrong,” Atton said. “But that’s some good thinking. You might not be able to leave the ship, but the remote can. I mean, we don’t even know what the surface of Malachor is like now. Could be that no one organic can go out there. The remote might be the only chance we have.”

“Maybe.” Bao-Dur had already thought of this, but it was encouraging to hear it from someone else. It meant that the real reason – the darker reason – why the remote might be necessary might not come true. Maybe he really was just being paranoid about things. 

“Malachor,” he sighed. “Where it all ends.”

“No,” Atton said forcefully. “The only person who’s going to find an ending at Malachor is Kreia. That old scow is finally going to get what’s coming to her.”

“And after that?” He found himself wondering what Alia and Atton had talked about that night after Dantooine. It was entirely possible that Atton knew her plans, when no one else did.

“Then we fight the Sith,” Atton said, as if this was blatantly obvious. He shrugged. “Find out where they’re based, and we take the fight to them.”

“Like Revan did,” Bao-Dur said.

“Revan was an idiot,” Atton said bluntly.

Bao-Dur gaped at him. Of all the things he had expected to hear, this was not one of them. “Why do you say that?”

“Everyone knows the stories,” Atton said. “Revan had all those Jedi with him. He fought with Bastila Shan, and all the galaxy knows how powerful she is.” He gave Bao-Dur a significant look. “I’ve even heard that they were lovers.”

“How does that make Revan an idiot?” Bao-Dur asked.

“Because he threw them all away!” Atton flung out a hand in disgust. “He went off toward the Outer Rim with no one to help him. When he could have had incredibly powerful companions by his side. Instead he went alone, and now no one’s heard from him in almost five years. So yeah, Revan was an idiot.”

“And you don’t think Alia will do the same thing?” He held his breath, hoping he would get the answer he wanted.

“I know she won’t,” Atton said. “She already tried that, you see.” He smiled crookedly. “She gave me the ‘it’s too dangerous, I can’t risk you’ speech. The ‘I have to do this alone and not jeopardize the ones I care about’ lecture. I heard it all.”

“What did you say to that?” Bao-Dur demanded. A fit of eager trembling seized him. He would not be left behind on Telos. He would get to fight. He would get to remain with Visas!

“I let her talk,” Atton said. “And then I kissed her.” He grinned.

Having expected some profound words of wisdom, Bao-Dur was rather disappointed by this. “Oh,” he said.

“We’re all going to Malachor,” Atton said. “Trust me.”

Bao-Dur was about to say that he did trust Atton, when he suddenly felt it. A burning spear had just been thrust through his chest, and he could only gasp out loud with the pain and shock.

“What is it?” Atton shouted. “What’s going on?”

Visas. He could sense her now through their bond, and it took no effort of concentration at all.

She was dying. He could feel the strength leaving her. Dimly he felt his own body slump to one side, sliding out of the chair and thumping onto the floor. From a very great distance, he seemed to hear Alia saying something; the words were lost but her tone was encouraging, urging Visas not to give up.

Even farther away, someone was laughing. Dark, hungry laughter.

 _Hold on,_ he thought desperately. _Don’t give up, my love. Fight him. You can do it._

Somehow, she rallied. She found strength. Maybe she took it from him. If so, Bao-Dur gave it to her gladly. She needed it now more than he did.

“Hey! Bao-Dur!” Atton grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a mighty shake. “Stay with me, damnit!”

It would be all right now. She was strong once again. The Force flowed through her, not the debilitating power of the dark side, but the uplifting power of the light. Darth Nihilus would be defeated. He had never been so sure of anything in all his life.

So it was all right then, to close his eyes. He could sleep now. Everything would be all right. 

And when he woke up, she would be there, waiting for him.

*******

Chapter 11  
Malachor

 

Time was short. There could be no more excuses, no more indulging his fears. If he was ever going to speak the truth to Visas, it had to be now.

They flew through the mottled tunnel of hyperspace, drawing ever nearer to Malachor. Mandalore had not returned after the fight with Darth Nihilus; there was no sign that he had ever been on the _Ebon Hawk_ at all. Mical knelt in meditation in Kreia’s old chambers, seeking refuge in the calming peace of the Force. Mira moved slowly through the main hold, performing routine exercises to stay limber, her mind light-years from her body.

Alia spent this last night with Atton, behind closed doors that no one would have dreamed of knocking on.

Bao-Dur sat with Visas on the floor of her room. They faced each other, as if they were merely pausing in a conversation that had already lasted for hours, but in truth neither of them had spoken in some time.

The silence could not be allowed to endure. Bao-Dur cleared his throat. “I must tell you something.”

And at the same time, Visas said, “There is something I must tell you.”

Cowardly though it was, Bao-Dur welcomed the chance to once more postpone his confession. “What is it?”

Visas showed no fear to speak her words, and again Bao-Dur was reminded of just how strong she was. “When we were on board the _Ravager,_ ” she said, “we came across my old chambers. Although there was no time for luxury, nonetheless Alia allowed me to enter, and to meditate there once again.

“I spent most of my time there,” Visas went on. “My master was cruel and harsh, and I would escape his attentions by meditating in my quarters. He did not intrude there, and so I felt safe there.”

Bao-Dur took a deep breath, and then another. He forced himself to focus on his breathing. It was either that, or go insane with rage. The thought of anyone touching Visas, of hurting her, was unbearable.

“I knelt there one last time in meditation,” Visas said, “and I reached out for the Force. At last I was able to accept what happened to my people, and my homeworld. At last I found peace. The dark side will haunt me no more.”

He loved her so much then! She had endured more than anyone ought to know, and yet she had survived. And she was the stronger for it, not bitter and angry, but quietly in control of herself. There was a new serenity to her now, a peace that came from having walked in the darkness, and through to the light on the other side.

“I will surely be tempted again. Such is the way of the galaxy. But I no longer fear that moment. I will not succumb. I will not fall. The dark side has no more power over me.”

There would never be a better time to say it. Bao-Dur gathered his courage and looked at her beautiful face. “I love you,” he said.

Visas did not react at first, and Bao-Dur held his breath. He could not think what he would do if she rejected him. In fact, he could not even think at all.

Then Visas smiled radiantly. “As I love you,” she whispered.

Somehow he was on his feet, although he did not remember standing, and she was there too. She was in his arms, and he kissed her until he was breathless and she was leaning against him, trusting him to hold her up.

“Whatever happens after Malachor, I want you to stay with me.” He never wanted to let go of her.

“Our fates are entwined,” Visas said. She kissed him hungrily. “I will never leave you.”

“I love you,” he said. “I love you.” Now that he had said the words, he could not say them enough. He wanted her to hear it. He wanted her to know how much she was loved.

“Bao-Dur.” She breathed his name, just the once.

He looked up and saw that somehow they had moved while kissing, so that they stood in front of her bed. And he saw too that she was not afraid.

He kissed her again, and then they were falling down together, and he told her that he loved her, in oh so many ways.

****

It was too dangerous to come out of hyperspace near Malachor V, which meant they had to arrive at a distance, and travel on sublight engines. The enforced slowness of the flight meant they had more time to prepare for what lay ahead, and that was good.

The bad thing was that their approach to Malachor was so slow, they could see for hours the destruction that awaited them.

Bao-Dur was horrified. The ruin of Malachor was far worse than he had even imagined. His memories of the final battle of the war were fragmented; his ship had been one of the few to survive, but it had been a near thing. The damage to the cruiser had been terrific, and many soldiers had died. He had lost his arm, and only the quick thinking of one of his comrades had kept him from dying that day. The other soldier had dragged him through the blast door only moments before it closed, sealing off the damaged area of the cruiser. Had he been left behind, he would have died instantly.

Seeing it now, he almost wished he _had_ died. Wrecked ships orbited the planet, Republic cruisers and Mandalorian warships alike. Some of their orbits were degrading and they would soon crash onto the planet, to join all the other dead things on Malachor’s desolate landscape. 

Malachor itself was dead. Nothing grew there. Nothing lived there except great Storm Beasts that fed off the thousands of corpses littering the planet’s barren surface. And nothing would ever change. No Republic restoration project would ever come out here and try to make the planet habitable again. No one would ever care.

Bao-Dur looked at it all and shuddered.

Immediately Visas was there, taking his hand. “Do not blame yourself,” she admonished him gently.

After last night, he felt closer to her than ever before, yet he did not say anything now. He did not look away from the desolation ahead.

“All right, folks.” Atton’s voice came over the intercom. “We’re ready to start out descent. Could be we’re in for a bumpy ride, so you might want to strap yourselves in. Or just hold on _really_ tight.”

“Come.” Visas led him away from the viewport. “Do not look upon it any longer.”

Bao-Dur followed her without comment.

She could say what she wanted. He knew he was to blame for Malachor.

**** 

_It’s the war again. Can’t let go. It’s the war again._

That was as coherent as Bao-Dur’s thoughts were.

Alarms were braying. Someone was screaming in fear. Sickening jolts made the ship shudder and groan. A droid was frantically beeping.

Then all forward motion stopped. At least, the ship stopped. Bao-Dur found himself flying all on his own.

And then _he_ stopped, too.

**** 

It took some time to figure everything out.

The _Ebon Hawk_ had come to a crashing halt in a narrow canyon. The ship was badly damaged, and there seemed to be no way to free it from the rocky confines of the canyon.

Bao-Dur was not the only one injured. Atton had broken some ribs when he had been flung from his seat in the cockpit. Mira was chalk-white as she held a cloth to long bleeding gash in her side. Visas had dislocated her shoulder when she had been flung against a bulkhead. Mical was limping badly, and there was blood in his hair. Only Alia was not hurt, and she moved calmly among them, using the Force to heal their wounds.

Bao-Dur watched her through half-closed eyes. He was lying on the couch, so someone must have placed him there. Blood ran down his face from a cut on his forehead, and his head ached atrociously. He suspected one of his horns was cracked. Worse though was the pain inside. Something was broken deep within him, and no amount of Force healing was going to fix him.

Alia came to him last. She laid her hand on his forehead and the Force washed over him, soothing the worst of his hurt. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“It’s all right, General.” He gave her a small smile. “We both knew it ended here.”

Pain flickered in her eyes. “Rest, Bao-Dur. I will be back, and I can help you more then.”

He nodded. She had to conserve her strength for the fight against Kreia. He did not begrudge her this. He did not want her to weaken herself in unnecessary healing for his sake. 

“Try to get the ship operational,” Alia said to them. “Stay close and if you have to leave the ship, go out together. Nobody is to go out there alone.”

They all nodded, although Bao-Dur saw Mira frowning a little, as if she had just heard something no one else could.

“We can get it working again,” Atton said, “but I don’t see how we’re going to get out of this canyon.”

“One thing at a time,” Mira said. She made a shooing gesture to Alia. “Go on. Go kill Kreia. We’ll be ready to leave when you get back.”

Alia gazed at them all for a long moment, as if fixing their faces in her memory. Bao-Dur had often seen soldiers do that before going on suicide missions, and he wondered sadly if she truly planned to survive her encounter with Kreia.

Then she was gone.

For a while no one moved. Then Visas came over to kneel beside the couch. She took Bao-Dur’s hand. “I am not skilled in healing,” she said, “but I will do what I can.” Faint tremors shook her voice, revealing how frightened she was.

“I’m going out there,” Mira announced.

“You heard what Alia said,” Mical said. “Are you so quick to go against her wishes?”

“I have to,” Mira insisted. “I don’t know how, but I can feel someone out there. Waiting for me. I have to go.”

“Someone is out there?” Mical asked. His hand dropped warily to his lightsaber.

“I don’t even know how it’s possible, but it is. It’s Hanharr,” Mira said. “It must have been Kreia. She brought him here. And he’s out there, waiting for me to face him.” She took a deep breath. “I have to go.”

“We’re all going,” Atton said.

“No way,” Mira responded. “I’m doing this alone.”

“We’re not going to help _you_ ,” Atton said. He looked at Bao-Dur. “You remember our promise.”

Mira looked flustered. “Yeah, but… But what about Hanharr? I can’t just pretend he isn’t out there.”

“You can catch up to us,” Atton said. He shrugged as if he didn’t really care whether or not Mira came with them.

“Bao-Dur is hurt,” Visas said. “He cannot leave the ship.”

The thought of walking over the rocky surface of Malachor made Bao-Dur’s stomach clench. He knew he would not be able to make it. “You go,” he said. “I will stay here and work on the ship.”

“By yourself? You are injured.” Mical shook his head. “No. I do not like this plan.”

“You made a promise!” Atton rounded on him. “You promised you would help Alia when she needed it. Does she mean that little to you? Now that she’s made it clear she doesn’t want you, are you going to turn your back on her?”

The color drained from Mical’s face. “You know that is not true,” he said quietly.

“Then act like it,” Atton snapped. He turned around, ignoring Mical. “Visas, are you coming with me?”

She gazed down at Bao-Dur, her mouth tight with concern. She stroked his face. “I do not want to leave you,” she said sadly. Then she looked up at Atton. “I will go with you.”

Bao-Dur squeezed her hand, grateful that she had made the right choice. “You go,” he said. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”

She leaned down and kissed him, not caring that the others could see. “I love you,” she whispered.

As she spoke, she called upon the Force. It touched Bao-Dur, making his eyes fly open. An incredibly powerful rush of sensation swept over his body, and then it was gone, leaving behind only a slow tingling.

“We share the Force now,” Visas said. “See what I see, my love. See through the Force, as I do.”

She caressed his cheek one more time, then stood up. “I am ready.”

****

The four of them left at once. Mira said that she would go ahead and deal with Hanharr, so the threat would be removed by the time the others caught up. Atton, who was in charge of their little expedition, said that was fine.

Bao-Dur remained on the _Ebon Hawk_. He lay on the couch for a few minutes, gathering his strength. The pain deep inside him had abated a little, but he knew it would flare again when he tried to move. He was not looking forward to it.

His little remote hovered nearby, anxiously bobbing up and down. With a sigh, Bao-Dur realized that the time had come.

“You know what to do,” he said.

The remote bwooped at him and flashed its lights. Then it drifted off to do his bidding, following the programming he had hoped it would never have to utilize.

He watched the remote float away, and decided that it was high time he got going as well. He caught his lower lip in his teeth and slowly tried sitting up.

Immediately the pain increased, making him gasp out loud. His head sagged forward, and he slumped, wishing he could just slide off the couch and onto the floor, where he could close his eyes and fall asleep.

But he did not have that luxury. He was needed. He had to get the _Ebon Hawk_ ready to fly again. He had to do his part. This was all part of his atonement for what had happened here so many years ago.

He was still trying to find the strength to stand when T3 rolled up to him. The droid let loose a long series of beeps and boops that would have puzzled most people. Bao-Dur just listened carefully, squinting against his pain, and frowning at what he heard.

Apparently HK-47 and G0-T0 had left the ship shortly after his remote had. He had no idea what they could be up to, but he did not like it one bit.

“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your help.”

T3 beeped some more. Bao-Dur breathed slowly in and out, waiting for the pain to subside a little before he stood up. “What can you do?” he asked.

The droid pointed out helpfully that he had worked on the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s systems before. Bao-Dur started to nod, but the severe headache this motion brought on made him regret the gesture before it had hardly begun. “How far off the ground are we?” he asked.

T3 beeped an answer. Bao-Dur thought about their situation for a long moment, then made his decision. “Check the ship’s systems,” he said. “Do a full diagnostic. Then come report your findings. We’ll figure out what to do then.”

The little astromech droid booped in confirmation, then rolled off to obey his order. Bao-Dur watched him go.

 _Visas, my love._ He missed her soothing presence. He wanted to feel her hand touching his skin. He wanted her to hold him and ease his pain.

 _Visas._ He reached for her, wanting her.

And she was there.

He caught his breath in utter shock. Although he was still sitting hunched over on the couch in the main hold of the _Ebon Hawk_ , he was somehow also walking through the wasteland of Malachor V.

He could see everything she could. He watched as she picked her way carefully among the rocks. She stepped over a gaping crack in the ground, and skirted a well of poison gas. Ahead of her Atton led the way. Mical walked behind her, unhappy and watchful.

 _My love._ She spoke his name, and Bao-Dur flinched in surprise. _Now you see, as I do._

Everything around him was surrounded by a faint aura. It was life, it was the Force, it was amazing. Atton was enclosed by a shining light blue aura. Mical’s aura was a stronger blue. The surface of Malachor, however, shone with no light at all. It was dead in the Force. 

_Now you know,_ Visas breathed.

He understood. He had to remain behind, but part of him went with her. They were bonded through the Force, and through their love. Wherever she went, he could go with her. She was not alone in her quest, not truly.

The knowledge gave him strength. He stood up quickly, refusing to let his pain stop him. He had a task to do.

He must not fail.

******

Chapter 12  
Endgame

 

The _Ebon Hawk_ was badly damaged, but she would fly again. Bao-Dur was certain of it.

He moved slowly through the ship, his arm pressed to his abdomen. The pain of his injuries was growing steadily worse, but he was still able to block it out and focus on his work. For now.

T3 helped whenever possible. The little droid went up the turbolift and worked on the ship’s hull. Bao-Dur was grateful for the aid; he knew he could not have made his way out there.

He was checking the status of the life support systems when he heard the unmistakable sound of Mira’s rocket launcher.

His head snapped up. He looked around in shock. And suddenly he could see it all happening, as if he was there himself.

Mira was fighting for her life. She ran across a rock-strewn plain, her eyes wide with fear. Behind her came the crazed wookiee Hanharr, his swords dripping with blood. Both hunter and prey were wounded, however. Hanharr’s strides were slowing down, and he left a thick trail of blood on the dusty ground. Mira was able to stay ahead of him, and every time she gained enough distance she would whirl about and either fire her pistols, or let loose one of her rockets.

 _What is happening?_ Bao-Dur thought wildly. _How am I seeing this?_

 _The Force will show you what you need to know,_ came the reply. It was Visas, speaking to him through their bond. _You have sight now, my love._

Bao-Dur shook his head, not caring that doing so doubled his already terrible headache. “I don’t want to see this,” he said out loud. He did not want to see his friends in danger, suffering and afraid. He could not help Mira right now, so why should he be forced to watch her battle for her life?

The vision faded. The _Ebon Hawk_ came back into view. Bao-Dur clutched at the console in front of him.

He was suddenly very afraid.

**** 

Outside, an electrical storm began to rage.

He stared out the viewport, watching the frequent lightning. At the same time, he watched as Alia mounted the steps of the Trayus Academy, while Sith soldiers bowed low on either side of her. 

Behind her, at the place where the rocky surface of Malachor gave way to the wide apron fronting the academy, were her companions. They stood in a tight cluster, wary and afraid, yet determined to go on. Mira had joined them by now; Mical had used the Force to heal the injuries she had sustained in the battle with Hanharr.

 _Be careful,_ Bao-Dur urged.

 _We will,_ Visas replied. She held her lightsaber at the ready, prepared to defend herself and her friends if necessary. Bao-Dur ached to be with her, but he knew his place was on board the ship. He would only be a hindrance if he were with them right now.

Alia disappeared into the Academy. And moving as one, Visas, Atton, Mira, and Mical all began to walk forward.

Bao-Dur’s reverie was broken by the sound of T3 rolling into the cockpit. The little droid beeped an apology. He was sorry, but he could not stay outside the ship anymore. Not with all the lightning.

“It’s all right,” Bao-Dur murmured. “We’ll just have to do our best.”

The words had barely left his mouth when a bolt of lightning struck the ship. With a tortured scream of metal on rock, the _Ebon Hawk_ peeled free of the canyon where it was firmly stuck, and plummeted straight downward.

Bao-Dur was lifted off his feet. He heard T3 squeal with alarm, but he himself made no sound. Terror gripped him by the throat; he could not cry aloud with his own fear.

The _Ebon Hawk_ fell, down and down, deep into a ravine. Everything not bolted down was hurled through the air. Bao-Dur was flung onto the pilot’s console. Brilliant starbursts of light danced before his eyes. He slumped to the floor, scarcely able to breathe for the pain crushing his chest.

With a sick shudder, the _Ebon Hawk_ crashed to a halt. T3 uttered a shrill series of beeps from his prone position near the door.

Bao-Dur closed his eyes. He lacked the strength to do anything else.

****

In his semi-conscious state, he watched as his friends approached Kreia.

They had entered the Trayus Academy in a group, keeping close together. Alia roamed the halls ahead of them, distracted from her goal by the seemingly endless waves of Sith who sought to cut her down. But no one had stopped Visas and the others from going straight to Kreia’s location.

The old woman knelt in quiet meditation, her head lowered. She looked unchanged, and this disturbed the part of Bao-Dur that was still capable of rational thought. He had expected her to look different. She _should_ have looked different, he thought. Her masks had been removed; why did she still look the same?

Mira spoke first, quietly. “I say we fire a rocket at her right now, and blow her screaming, burning body into the heart of this planet.”

Atton shook his head. “It wouldn’t work. If there were other distractions, maybe. If she wasn’t telepathic, maybe.” He gestured at Mira’s rocket launcher. “If you want to kill her like that, you need something else to occupy her attention, otherwise you might just wound her. And then we’d all be in trouble.”

The bounty hunter scowled, but conceded the point. Bao-Dur thought she looked almost relieved at having her idea shot down.

Mical glanced around, perhaps hoping that Alia would appear and save him from having to do anything. “This battle will not be decided by weapons.”

“You are wrong,” Visas said. She was very pale. Bao-Dur knew she was frightened for him, and he wished he could reassure her that he would be all right, but such an action seemed beyond him right now. He could not speak to her through the Force anymore. He could only watch, helplessly.

“Manipulation is Kreia’s strength,” Visas said, “not battle. We have a chance. We just have to figure out how to make use of it. Let us see what transpires...and plan our attack.”

“Then let’s do this,” Mira said. To Bao-Dur’s Force-enhanced sight, the Force was strong with her, bathing her in soft blue light. She hefted her pistols, then stepped forward, setting everything in motion.

“We’ve come a long way, Kreia.” Mira’s voice shook a little. She licked her lips nervously, then said, “Don’t bother getting up.”

Kreia did not move. “Ah, the huntress.” She sounded indulgent, like a parent who had decided to let her child get away with something this time. “To come alone…you are braver than I thought.”

Mical quickly moved up so he was beside Mira. “She is not alone. We stand with her."

Visa walked up. "And with her, stand all the Jedi.” She ignited her lightsaber.

Atton came up on Mira’s other side. “And now I come in, saying something suitably heroic.” He gave Kreia a mocking salute with his lightsaber.

The old woman snorted with disdain. She still made no move to rise. “Children with lightsabers,” she scoffed. She smiled, which was not a pleasant sight. “But not Jedi, I think.”

Her contempt froze them in place. Even Bao-Dur, lying on the floor of the _Ebon Hawk_ , shuddered.

Slowly, as if she had all the time in the world, Kreia stood up. “Come close, let me look upon you and see what Alia’s teaching has forged.” She lifted her head so her white eyes were readily visible. “An assassin, a coward, a blinded slave...and a fool.” She chuckled, again sounding like an indulgent parent. “Which of you wishes to try yourselves against me? As you can see, I am unarmed.”

She gazed upon Mical, making the choice for them. “Come, boy, face me now. Do not make this one of the many battles you have run from.” 

Mical flinched as if she had slapped him. Yet the Force did not desert him. His voice rang out as he declared, “I am no coward,” and attacked.

No one joined him as he set himself against Kreia. It was as though the thought did not occur to them. They merely stood where they were, watching Kreia lazily dodge Mical’s attacks. She barely seemed to move, yet he was soon winded and desperate.

 _Help him!_ Bao-Dur cried. He longed for physical hands so he could shake Visas by the shoulder.

But Visas did not respond to him. Perhaps she couldn’t, held still and silent by the dark side of the Force.

While they all watched, Kreia grew bored with Mical. She lashed out with her single hand and caught him around the throat. He was taller than her and heavier than her, and yet he was powerless to fight her as she lifted him off the ground.

“Think,” Kreia said. “Think before you throw away your life for her. Think of everything you will lose by dying. A love, however unrequited it may be. A hope of another life, beyond the shadow of the Jedi.” She paused, inviting him to consider her offer. “Think before you give it up so quickly.”

Her hand convulsed. Without ever having a chance to speak in his defense, Mical died.

Kreia tossed him aside as if he weighed nothing. She turned to Visas, and through the bond they shared, Bao-Dur felt her heart begin to beat faster.

“And you, blind one, you have hungered to strike me down ever since you saw the bond Alia and I share. Can you feel the Force running through me, even past the veil, past your bloodied eyes? You know you cannot win.” Kreia’s upper lip curled, showing her disdain for such a threat to her person.

Now that she was free from the invisible restraints that had held her still while Kreia throttled Mical, Visas was able to speak. “The Force runs strong within you, Traya, but in the howling of a storm, it is difficult to hear the whisper of the blade.” Her voice gained strength with every word, until it echoed through the enormous chamber at the Trayus Core. Bao-Dur felt an answering strength within his fallen body, but he did not move. He could not leave her, not now. He had to stay with her until the end, so she would know how much he loved her.

Visas took a single step forward. “You have forever been the blind one. You were given a gift few are ever given, and yet you let your gift of sight warp you, tw--”

Calmly, Kreia raised her hand. As she did, the dark side of the Force seized Visas in a crushing grip. Lying on the floor of the _Ebon Hawk_ , Bao-Dur felt as though he were trapped in a vise. He cried out, but only T3 heard him.

“You think your existence under your Lord was torture, Miraluka? I will make you see.” Kreia’s mouth twisted in hatred. She threw Visas to one side.

Visas slid across the floor, her lightsaber rolling from her limp hand. Bao-Dur watched in agony, unable to do anything except watch. She was still alive, but her life force was desperately low. Only the Force could save her now.

Kreia looked at Mira. “And you. You were stronger than I thought -- to spare the beast that wished to kill you. I felt it, faintly, even here. Come, huntress. You have tracked me so far and killed many beasts to be here. Cast away your past for this moment.” 

Mira gathered herself to attack, but before she could even move, Kreia had seized her in the same crushing grip of the Force. Within moments she too was crumpled on the floor, lifeless and still.

Atton, who had urged them all toward this moment, turned and ran.

And on the _Ebon Hawk_ , Bao-Dur could only cry out in despair.

 _Go back!_ he raged helplessly. He did not know what had undone Atton, but he was filled with panic at the sight of it. Visas was still alive, although Kreia did not know that yet. And if Atton would not challenge her, she would soon learn the truth, and finish what she had started.

From the shadows, a figure stepped forward. He was tall and muscular, and every part of his body screamed with pain. One of his eyes was blind and staring, and with every step, shattered bones cracked and popped. The dark side of the Force surrounded him with a pulsing darklight. Bao-Dur recognized him from hearing Alia and Atton tell the story of his appearance on the _Harbinger_ , but he would have known the newcomer even without their description. This was Darth Sion, the lord of pain.

Kreia did not even look at her former pupil. “And that is the last of them. Take them. They are strong in the Force...and they will have their uses. I will remain here and await the one who comes.”

Sion’s voice was deep and broken, like the rest of him. “It will be as you say.”

****

Bao-Dur opened his eyes and found himself staring at the ceiling of the cockpit. Every inch of his body ached atrociously. He had to blink several times before the blurriness left his vision, and even then everything was too bright, making him squint.

T3 was anxiously beeping. With an effort Bao-Dur raised his hand and let it flop back down to the floor. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Just give me a moment.”

He closed his eyes again. He did not want to get up. He did not want to force his mind to focus on the _Ebon Hawk_. Far away from him, Visas was dying. She was alone. She needed him.

He reached for her along the bond that connected them. She was barely conscious, huddled in the corner of a prison cell. Sion had dragged her and the others there, and she was alone in the dark.

 _I am here_ , he called. _Be strong, my love. Hold on._

Her thoughts were so faint, he had to strain to hear them. _I am holding on._

Help was on the way. Alia was making her way through the proving grounds of the Academy. Yet wherever she went, the Sith were there to bar her progress and weaken her. She was beating them back, but the constant battling was taking its toll on her. Minor wounds were beginning to pain her more and more, and she was having to use the Force in healing almost constantly.

But she was not the only one walking through Trayus, Bao-Dur saw. His Force sight now encompassed the entire facility, he realized with surprise. He could see everything, from the empty halls of the actual Academy, to the dark Jedi lying dead in the proving grounds, silent witness to Alia’s passage.

And so he watched as Sion stalked through the halls of the proving grounds before coming to a halt in front of the prison cells. 

And he watched as Atton stepped out from the shadows – and at last he understood why Atton had turned aside from Kreia.

He watched as the two men stopped and faced each other.

“And I get the fool,” Sion said.

Atton ignited his lightsaber. “Funny. That’s just what I was thinking.”

_Bao-Dur…_

He flew to her side, cursing the fact that he could not truly be there with her. She was struggling to sit up. Her strength was slow to return. He knew she dared not call upon him for aid, as she had when she had faced Darth Nihilus. He was gravely injured, and she could not allow him to give up what little strength he had left. But it was enough for her that he was there. Her fear left her, and she began to focus herself, trying to find her center so she could meditate and use the Force to heal herself.

 _Alia is coming_ , he told her. _I can see her. She will come for you._

 _I know_ , Visas replied. _She will never turn her back on those who need her._

She gave up trying to sit, and slumped back to the floor. _Your presence here…I can feel you so strongly._

He ached to be there with her, to hold her. Through the Force he could see her and feel her, but he was powerless to help her. He could not take her in his arms, or lean close and whisper in her ear.

Outside in the hall, the sound of lightsabers crashing together grew louder and then fainter, as the combatants moved about. Should Sion win, and enter her cell next, Visas would die. She lacked the strength to stand, let alone defend herself. It would be over with in seconds.

 _I am here for you._ He could still hear T3 moving about the ship, but the sounds were growing dimmer. His mind was there with Visas. His body felt very far away now. He wondered what would happen if he died, if part of him would remain in the Force, forever tethered to Visas through their love.

 _Do not think such things!_ Visas did not move, but he could feel her spirit ready for battle. _You should leave me. You are needed. Alia will never survive unless you have the ship ready for her._

He knew she was right, but he did not want to pull his mind from hers. T3 could finish fixing the ship. He wanted to stay right here, with the one he loved.

In the corridor, the sound of the lightsaber duel suddenly stopped. Bao-Dur felt a sickening wrench in the Force.

Visas felt it, too. She lifted her head from the cold floor of her cell. _What is happening?_

He let his focus drift from her. He could see all of the proving grounds now, and what he saw filled him with horror.

Sion had won. He stood still, his lightsaber humming in the stillness. His shadow fell over Atton, who was writhing weakly on the floor. 

_What is it?_ Visas asked again, this time with some urgency. He could feel her moving, gritting her teeth against her weakness as she forced herself to sit up.

Words were beyond him. He could only stare.

Sion had cut off Atton’s arm. There was not much blood, for a lightsaber cauterized as it cut, but that made the result no less horrific. Phantom pains stabbed Bao-Dur’s missing left arm, reminding him just how it felt to lose a limb.

Sion looked dispassionately at Atton for a while longer, then he powered down his lightsaber. He turned around and began walking away. He passed the cell where Visas lay, and Bao-Dur sighed with relief.

His relief was short-lived. Never one to accept defeat, Atton was struggling to rise. The pilot was deathly pale, and his right arm hugged his chest, gripping all that remained of his left arm. “Running away?” he asked hoarsely. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Sion stopped and turned around. His expression did not change. Perhaps he had expected this final challenge. Whatever he had expected, however, it was clear that he was not going to let Atton distract him from facing Alia. “Nor I you.” With a jerk of his hand, he raised Atton in the air, holding him with the Force. “I will remake you. So when I look upon you it shall be like a mirror. Then I shall let you die.”

The very thought of being twisted and broken into becoming another Sion made Bao-Dur’s heart quail. But Atton just smiled, or tried to. “There’s...nothing worse you can do to me,” he gasped. “Take your time.”

Now some animation crept onto Sion’s face. His living eye sparked with malice. “As you wish.”

Bao-Dur fled.

But even as he found himself awake again on the _Ebon Hawk_ , he could still hear Atton screaming.

**** 

“There is no emotion. There is only peace. There is no chaos. There is only serenity.”

He chanted the Jedi Code under his breath as he dragged himself to his feet. Time was short, and his friends needed him. Visas needed him.

Since crashing on Malachor’s surface, he had acted only as a tech, thinking of repair and maintenance. He had forgotten that he was a Jedi now, and that the universe was a much wider place for him now.

Carefully, unsure of himself, he reached for the Force. He tried to channel it into those places deep inside where he was most badly injured, and he thought he succeeded, maybe. Some of the pain ebbed, and he felt a little stronger.

“Query: Have you finalized plans to leave this planet, meatbag? Or does part of your plan involve standing in the cockpit and doing nothing?

Bao-Dur started in surprise. The HK droid stood just outside the cockpit, for once without his customary blaster rifle. His metal plating was scorched in several places, as if he had just come from a firefight. “I didn’t know you were back,” he mumbled.

“Observation: I am not surprised,” said HK-47. “Yet I admit to some feelings of disappointment. For a meatbag, you have considerable respect for droids. I had hoped you would continue to show such appreciation.”

Bao-Dur shook his head. He was suspicious of the assassin droid’s sudden arrival, wondering what it meant. He was not ignorant of the fact that G0-T0 had not returned with HK-47. And those laser marks on HK’s plating could only have come from one source. Obviously something had happened between the two droids, something he would probably never know.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he said. “I was just…” He swallowed hard. Inside the Trayus Academy, Alia was approaching the place where Sion awaited her. If he chose, he could use the Force to see what was happening there. It would not take much effort on his part. But he turned away, not wanting to see any more. Already he had seen too much pain, too much death.

He looked at HK-47, measuring the droid’s capabilities. “How are you with a hydrospanner?”

The droid’s photoreceptors flashed. “Irritated Response: I am insulted you would even consider such a thing. Routine maintenance is far beneath me, Iridonian.”

Bao-Dur gave the assassin droid a crooked smile. “I think you’ll be surprised at what you can do when your own survival is on the line.”

HK-47 considered this for a moment, no doubt computing the probabilities of making it off Malachor with the ship still damaged, then heaved a sigh. “Resigned Statement: Very well. But I must insist that you not inform my master of this. She will never re-activate my assassin protocols if she thinks of me as merely a larger, more erudite version of that astromech droid.”

Despite everything he had witnessed today, Bao-Dur could not help biting back a smile at this. “I promise I won’t say anything,” he said. “Now go find T3 and ask him how far he’s come with his repairs.”

The assassin droid stalked off. Bao-Dur had barely begun to turn his attention back to the _Ebon Hawk_ when he felt Visas’s presence in his mind.

_My love._

Instantly he was with her, back in that small, cold cell. _What is it?_

But she was not alone anymore. The door to the cell was open, and Alia was walking inside. “Visas!” Alia was as close to panic as Bao-Dur had ever seen her. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

She had opened the other cells, Bao-Dur saw. She had found Mira’s body, already turning cold and starting to stiffen. She had seen Mical looking as if he was merely sleeping, his eyes forever closed.

But she had not seen Atton, and that was because Atton was not there anymore. Bao-Dur looked at the small pool of blood drying on the floor and felt his stomach turn over with dread.

“We wished to help you,” Visas said. “To serve you until the end.” Her voice faltered as Alia helped her to her feet. “We hoped to save you from having to do this.”

“You should never have come,” Alia said, her voice harsh with grief.

Visas nodded, the tattered edge of her veil swaying with the motion. “I know that now,” she whispered.

“Can you walk? Follow me,” Alia ordered. “I will lead you to the exit. You will have to make your own way back to the ship.”

Visas nodded again. Her head was bent with pain and submission. “I will do what you ask.”

Alia laid her hand on Visas’s head and let the Force heal her, until Visas was able to stand straight again. Then she looked around, hesitating, not wanting to ask her next question. “I see Mira.” She winced. “And I see Mical. But where is Atton? What happened to him?”

“I do not know.” Visas shook her head. “Sion--” She could not finish.

Bao-Dur knew. The Force showed him Trayus in its entirety. He could see the place where Atton lay, and he could see Sion waiting, confident that Alia would soon come and face him.

Alia was in command now, the Jedi receding farther and farther into the distance. “Stay behind me,” Alia ordered. She was frightened, especially by the news that Sion had Atton, but she refused to show it. “The way should be clear, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

She led Visas from the cell and through the Trayus proving grounds. Visas walked slowly, her strength not entirely returned yet. Bao-Dur stayed with her, comforting her with his presence.

The exit from the proving grounds led them back into the Academy. Alia looked around and frowned. “I don’t remember this,” she said.

More Sith awaited them, but Alia fought them back. Visas remained behind, letting Alia do battle alone. She was not strong enough to last in a fight, and she knew it, much to her shame. Weakness was not normal for her, and she was angry with herself for being so useless.

 _Don’t think that way_ , Bao-Dur urged her.

She did not respond with words, but he felt the connection they shared flare stronger and brighter, as if she was embracing him with the Force.

Alia led the way forward, opening yet another door to reveal a wide room set with several thick columns. Bao-Dur tensed, and Visas felt his fear, so that she hung back, drawing no nearer the room.

“Stay back,” Alia said needlessly. “He is here.”

She walked forward, her violet lightsabers held at the ready. She had not gone far when Sion stepped out of the shadows. “You should not have come to Malachor,” he rasped. “She will break you…your mind, your body…you will be lost. Return to the surface, let the planet claim you as it claimed the other Jedi. There is no reason for you to suffer at her hands.”

Alia was surprised. “Are you showing me mercy?”

“It is not mercy,” Sion rasped. “What awaits you will weaken you. She will break you, as she did me, and you will no longer know yourself.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Alia asked.

In his own twisted way, Sion loved her, Bao-Dur understood. He sought now to prevent Alia from going forward to face Kreia, from meeting the same fate he had.

“I hate you because you are beautiful to me,” Sion said. “And in that weakness lies death.”

Words could cut and wound, as Bao-Dur had learned long ago, but they could not kill. Alia and Sion fought, and it was to the death. Time and again Sion rose to his feet, refusing to accept the inevitable. And every time, Alia was ready for him, both with words and her lightsabers.

Sion would not give in easily. “If you go before her, you will be broken,” he insisted. “If killing you will spare you what lies ahead, then kill you I must.”

One final time, they did battle. Bao-Dur watched through the Force as Sion’s will eroded still further, until at last he fell and did not get up again. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with acceptance. “Kreia, she will try to break you, to teach you how far someone can fall. Her weakness is you. As you were mine.”

He sighed. “I am glad to leave this place at last.”

And finally, Sion died.

Cautiously, Visas crept forward. “You showed him mercy by allowing him to die. His very existence was torture.”

“I know,” Alia said quietly. She gazed down at Sion’s body for a long moment, then looked up. Her brow furrowed. “I feel…” She gestured at Visas. “Wait here.”

She hurried through the large chamber and opened the last door. The room beyond was empty, with a long table and chairs, where perhaps Sion and Nihilus and Kreia had sat once, planning their war against the Jedi. No one sat there now, however, and Alia moved swiftly on to the next room.

Three Sith awaited her there, and a dark Jedi. Alia dispatched them quickly, with Visas watching from the doorway.

Only when the final Sith had fallen did Alia turn, and see Atton lying on the steps at the far end of the room.

“No!” Her anguished scream echoed through the room. Her face white with grief and horror, she ran to Atton’s side. She could have endured seeing anyone else dead or injured, but seeing the man she loved so badly hurt was nearly her undoing. And Kreia had known that, Bao-Dur thought sickly. Kreia had known, and that was why she had let Atton remain alive, when she had disposed of all the others.

“No! Atton!” Her lightsabers clattered to the floor. She dropped to her knees beside him.

Atton’s eyes opened. He saw Alia and tried to look around, although Bao-Dur was certain he did not see Visas standing there, her face filled with sorrow. “You’re alive,” he choked. “Did I save you yet?”

Alia gathered him in her arms. The Force sight Bao-Dur had gained showed him the grim truth. Atton had very little time. The blue light surrounding him was pale, and flickering weakly.

“Your eyes… That bad, huh?” He turned his head away. “Always was ugly... Now the outside matches. Was waiting for this, but... S’ not fair... Let you down...”

Alia shook her head rapidly. “Atton, hold on. I can still help you.” She started to reach for the Force.

Atton did not seem to hear her. “Was s’posed to save you,” he mumbled, wincing in pain. “S’ tired of living anyway... too many deaths...” He winced again, his breath catching on the pain. “Never told you... lied to you...” He managed a dry chuckle.

“I think we all saved each other,” Alia said. She glanced up at Visas, then looked back down. “Visas, Mira, Mical, Kreia. And you, Atton.” She stroked his hair back from his brow, tears glistening in her eyes.

 _Oh my love…_ Visas’s grief nearly undid Bao-Dur. He could hardly bear to feel it in her, and he yearned to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe forever. He could not think what he would do if he ever had to look down upon her dying face, and feel her life drain away as he held her close.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” Atton groaned. His voice was fading. “I don’t want to die in front of you. Can’t bear it. Loved you from the moment I first saw you, thought you were a dream......meant every word... tried to play it off as a joke... wasn’t funny...”

Alia was crying now. “You never needed to tell me, Atton. I knew.” She smiled bravely. “But you did tell me. And I’m so glad you did. I love you so much.”

Atton tried to laugh again, but the pain stopped him. “Hurts when I laugh. Hurts...You... saved me... joke’s on me...” He arched, his breath coming in short gasps. “Hurts...”

Determination hardened Alia’s face. “Stay with me,” she pleaded. “Atton, stay with me!” She closed her eyes and threw back her head, and the Force came at her command.

Such was the power she unleashed that Bao-Dur’s sight was erased in a wash of blinding white. He found himself slamming back into his body, his vision of the Trayus Academy gone as though it had never existed. There was only the _Ebon Hawk_ , and the silence of the cockpit around him.

 _Visas!_ He reached for her, but their bond felt tattered now, as if ripped into rags by a gale force wind.

She answered him, not with words, but with a burst of fierce joy. He knew then that Alia had been successful, but he knew too that the cost would be high. She had saved Atton, but at great risk to herself. She was weaker now, when she needed strength the most. But she was happy, happier than Bao-Dur had ever known her to be. And perhaps that was what mattered, more than any physical strength. She would face the coming battle against Kreia carrying not grief, but calm and peace.

And then came the sweetest words he could ever have hoped for. _We are coming_ , Visas called. _Be ready, my love._

Bao-Dur snapped to attention. He had a ship to repair.

****

T3 and HK-47 had already finished the bulk of the repairs, he discovered gratefully. When he fired up the engines, they responded readily. He was concerned about the stability of the hyperdrive, but it would last long enough to get them away from Malachor when the mass shadow generator went off, and that was the important thing.

He thought wistfully of his remote. He wondered what the droid was doing right now. It was a little like murder, ordering the remote to stay here and activate the generator; after all the years they had spent together, he felt guilty about what he had asked it to do. But he knew there was no other way. Too many had died here. It was time to end it all.

With the ship repaired, there was nothing to do except wait. He tried again to use the Force to heal himself, and this time he did even better. He stood before the viewport, too nervous to sit down. He could feel Visas drawing nearer, but he did not speak to her. She had to stay focused now, in order to avoid the dangers of Malachor, and he would never be able to live with himself if he distracted her and got her hurt as a result.

It felt like an eternity before he saw her. She came into sight around a curve of rock, walking slowly. Atton’s arm was draped across her shoulders, and his head sagged low. But he was walking on his own, and that alone brought a smile to Bao-Dur’s face.

He hurried from the cockpit so he could help them up the loading ramp. Every step made him wince, but the pain was not so bad now, and he was optimistic that he would make a full recovery. 

Visas looked up when she heard his footsteps on the ramp. She smiled tiredly. “We are here,” she said.

Bao-Dur came up to Atton’s injured side. “You’re almost there,” he encouraged.

Without looking up, Atton muttered, “We got something in common now, Bao-Dur. How about that?”

Bao-Dur bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud with sheer relief. If Atton could joke, then he would be just fine.

Together he and Visas helped Atton into the medbay, where only recently Mical had sat and studied. Bao-Dur shook his head, trying not to think about that. There would be time to grieve later. Right now he had to remember his duty, and stay focused.

When Atton was resting as comfortably as possible, they left the medbay and walked into the cockpit to await Alia’s return. Only then did Bao-Dur let himself turn to Visas. “I was so afraid,” he confessed.

She went to him immediately. She was warm in his arms. He hugged her close, squeezing his eyes shut. He had known Malachor would be dangerous, but he had not truly understood, he realized. Had he known the truth, he would never have let her leave Telos.

But she had survived. She was here now. She was holding him, kissing him, and he kissed her back, needing the warmth of her, craving it. After the cold, lonely hours when all he could do was watch her, he felt like he could never touch her enough.

“Never leave me again,” he whispered. “Never.”

“I will never,” Visas vowed.

He kissed her again, sinking into her. He wished they could be truly alone, so he could show her just how much he loved her. It was important to show her, now that he had come so close to losing her.

They were still entwined when he felt it. The sudden lurch in the Force that meant a Jedi had just died.

Visas gasped, her mouth on his. “Kreia,” she breathed.

Bao-Dur nodded. “She is dead.”

“Prepare the ship,” Visas ordered. She pulled free of his embrace. “We must be ready to leave the moment Alia returns.”

Bao-Dur did not need to be told twice. “Tell the droids,” he said. “And go sit with Atton. He shouldn’t be alone right now.” He remembered the terrible sense of loss that came from losing a limb. There were some amazing prosthetics out there, but none of them could ever be the same as your own flesh and blood.

He glanced at the glowing beam that served as his left arm. Funny how he had grown used to it, so that he never even really thought about it anymore. Once maybe he would have balked at embracing Visas with such a deformity, but now such a concern meant nothing. Now he knew that the only thing that mattered was having her there with him.

The _Ebon Hawk_ ’s engines roared to life. He raised the ramp as much as he dared, knowing Alia would hit it at a full run and leap aboard when she came in. He readied the navicomputer for the journey to Telos, and ran through the pre-flight check, noting with satisfaction that the ship was ready to go.

And then Alia was there. He watched through the viewport as she ran for the ship. She was shockingly pale and her hair had fallen from its customary neat ponytail. But she was alive, and she was counting on him to get them off Malachor.

The moment her feet touched the ramp, he punched the button to raise it. A few seconds later they were lifting off, and within minutes, they were airborne, streaking through Malachor’s thin atmosphere. The _Ebon Hawk_ raced for the stars, while below the countdown had begun.

They had not yet reached a safe distance to enter hyperspace when time ran out.

Because he was sitting in the cockpit, Bao-Dur had the perfect view as Malachor died for the second, and final time.

**** 

Hours later, with Telos still ahead, they gathered in the main hold.

Bao-Dur sat beside Visas, holding her hand. She had remained in the cockpit with him, offering support during the journey. They had talked a little, but mostly they had sat in silence, no longer needing words. It was enough just to be together. 

Alia and Atton sat side by side. Atton did not say much. He was still very weak, and in pain. The healing power of the Force had saved him on Malachor, but he needed true medical attention. Some of the best medics in the galaxy were on Telos, for the planet was still dangerous and unsafe, and the people who worked on the restoration project were unfortunately often in need of medical help.

Alia was quiet, as well. Malachor had diminished her somehow. “We will stay awhile on Telos,” she said. “We all need to rest, and recover.”

Before she could say anything else, Bao-Dur interrupted. “That is a very good idea. After that, I think we should go to Coruscant.”

Alia blinked. “Coruscant?” With her obviously-rehearsed speech already derailed, she seemed at a loss for words.

“We should consult with Bastila Shan,” Bao-Dur said. This was one thing he and Visas had discussed, and agreed on. “And any other Jedi who have been in hiding all this time.”

“We will need their counsel,” Visas said, “before we return to the Outer Rim.”

Alia looked at them in bewilderment. “No. You--” 

“You really think we’re staying behind?” Atton said hoarsely. He looked at Alia. “After everything that’s happened?”

Alia winced. “That’s exactly why you can’t come with me.”

“That’s exactly why we _are_ coming with you,” Bao-Dur returned.

Alia opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it closed. She looked at Atton, then at Visas, and finally at Bao-Dur. “I can’t make the decision for you,” she admitted. “But please think about what you are saying. We have already lost two of our friends.” Tears rose to her eyes.

Bao-Dur looked away, unable to bear the sight of her grief. He wished they could have taken Mira and Mical off Malachor. They deserved a proper burial. Instead all he could do was remember them, and honor their memory.

“I don’t want to lose any one else,” Alia said. “You are all dear to me.” She reached for Atton’s hand and squeezed it tight.

“You will not lose us,” Visas said. “We will remain with you, until the end.”

Alia took a deep breath. “Very well,” she said. “Then when we leave Telos, we will go to Coruscant. And from there?” She smiled tightly. “Well, from there, anything is possible.”

****

Later that night, they lay together in bed and talked of the future.

They were in Citadel Station, in their own room. It had been an exhausting day, but sleep was the furthest thing from Bao-Dur’s mind.

“And when this is all over? When the Sith are truly defeated?”

Visas touched his face. “Then we will be free to go our own way,” she said. “Wherever that may be.”

“I want you to see Iridonia,” he said. “I think you would like it there.”

She smiled and nestled closer against his chest. “I would like to see your homeworld.”

“Then I will take you there,” he promised. “But I think, after that, I would like to come back here. To Telos. We could do so much here, working with the restoration project.” He had seen much of the galaxy, but Telos was his home. No matter where he wandered, part of him would always remain here.

“I would like that,” Visas said. “I have much to atone for, and the work here is rewarding. It would be good to know that I have done something right for the galaxy.”

Bao-Dur closed his eyes. He too longed for atonement, and the restoration project needed someone with his skills. He was happy Visas shared his thoughts. Sharing a goal made it more attainable, and it would be nice to have a place they could both call home.

But not for a while. The Sith were still out there, and they had to be stopped. Revan was out there as well, in need of their help. Every day that slipped past was one day lost. Time was critical, and moreover, time was not on their side.

“What happens next?” he murmured.

“I do not know,” Visas said. “All I know is this. That wherever you go, I will be there. And wherever I go, you will walk beside me.” She smiled up at him. “I will always see you with me.”

Bao-Dur smiled back. “Always,” he promised.

*******

END


End file.
